sugurusbeloved

[sugurusbeloved]

Beneath The Tide - Suguru Geto

♆⋆ summary: you never believed mermaids, not even when your friend insisted they exist. you laughed her off, thinking it was just another childish dream–until that merman fucked you.

♆⋆ pairing: merman!suguru x f!reader

♆⋆ tags & warnings: MDNI. unprotected p in v, oral (f!receiving), fingering, aphrodisiac effects. mermaid au, modern setting, slow burn romance (?), fantasy romance, enemies to lovers kinda, possessive behavior, sea mythology, forbidden desire.

♆⋆ wc: 8k.

♆⋆ a/n: for anyone who's wondering how the fuck he has a dingly dong... when aroused or during mating season, his horse-sized thing protrudes from the penile slit above his anal slit. 🙏🏼

mdni divider by @/cafekitsune !!

the campus café smelled faintly of burnt espresso and rain-soaked pavement. outside, puddles reflected the cloudy sky, and inside, four of your friends sat crammed around a wobbly table that looked like it had survived a hurricane or two. you had been halfway through an overpriced iced latte when mina, the most dramatic of your group, leaned forward with the kind of gleam in her eyes that usually meant trouble.

“i’m telling you, it’s real,” she said, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “people have seen him.”

“‘him’ who?” you asked, not looking up from your phone. you were knee-deep in a string of unread emails from your professor about next week’s lab schedule.

“the mermaid,” mina announced, as if that explained everything.

you blinked, finally glancing up. “the… mermaid?”

aya, sitting to your right, immediately jumped in. “not just any mermaid. a gorgeous one. long black hair, golden eyes. they say he’s been spotted near the east cliffs, where the water gets deep and the current’s dangerous.”

you set your phone down slowly. “we’re in college. aren’t we too old to be swapping ghost stories and fairy tales?”

“it’s not a fairy tale!” mina slammed her palm on the table, making the salt shaker jump. “three different people have seen him this summer. and last year? a fisherman claimed he heard someone singing out there at night. said the voice was so beautiful he nearly dove in without thinking.”

“that fisherman was drunk,” aya muttered, but still, she wore the same dreamy smile.

“you’re all serious about this?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“yes,” mina said, “and apparently, if you meet his gaze, you’ll never be able to forget him.”

you scoffed, leaning back in your chair. “right. and then what? he drags you underwater to be his bride? i think you’ve been reading too much fanfiction.”

laughter rippled around the table, but it was tinged with that strange sort of uncertainty—like no one truly wanted to admit they were half-believing it. mina reached for her coffee, eyes narrowed in mock offense.

“fine, don’t believe us,” she said. “but when you see him, don’t come crying to me about how i didn’t warn you.”

the conversation shifted after that—someone brought up a new club on campus, another mentioned exam stress—but the mention of the mermaid lingered in the back of your mind like the taste of salt on your tongue.

that night, you lay in bed staring at your ceiling, the hum of your fan filling the silence. you tried to focus on your reading assignment, but every time you closed your eyes, you imagined deep, dark water stretching endlessly in every direction.

and somewhere in it—someone watching.

you turned over, huffing at yourself. ridiculous. mina’s story had just been meant for laughs. but…

you found yourself wondering, against your better judgment, what kind of eyes this so-called mermaid would have. and why you almost wanted to see them for yourself.

two days later, you weren’t planning to go anywhere near the ocean.

your plan for the afternoon had been simple: grab lunch, maybe catch up on some homework, and pretend the laundry pile in the corner of your dorm didn’t exist.

but mina had other ideas.

“you’re coming with us,” she announced, grabbing you by the wrist before you could protest.

“to where?”

“the docks. aya says her cousin has a boat, and he’s letting us hang out there.”

you dragged your feet a little. “why do i have a bad feeling this is about that stupid mermaid story?”

“it’s not stupid,” mina said, grinning. “and you’ll thank me when you see him.”

“uh-huh,” you muttered, though you followed anyway—mostly because you knew mina would haunt you with twenty unanswered messages if you didn’t.

the docks smelled like brine and engine oil, sunlight glinting off the water in blinding flashes. seagulls screamed overhead, swooping low enough to make you duck. aya’s cousin’s boat was small but tidy, rocking gently against the pier.

while aya and mina busied themselves taking selfies, you wandered to the edge of the dock. the water here was deeper than you expected, a green-blue shade that made you think of glass bottles. tiny fish flickered just beneath the surface, disappearing when your shadow passed over.

“don’t lean too far,” a voice called from behind you—aya’s cousin, carrying a coil of rope. “current’s strong today.”

you stepped back automatically, shoving your hands in your pockets. the sea stretched out endlessly beyond the harbor, and for some reason, you caught yourself scanning the waves, as if expecting… something.

no, not expecting. hoping.

ridiculous.

still, the image mina had planted in your head—long black hair, golden eyes—lingered stubbornly, as though the ocean itself was keeping the thought alive.

by the time you all headed back to campus, your hair smelled faintly of salt, and you had no idea why you kept glancing over your shoulder at the water.

you weren’t looking for him.

that’s what you told yourself—repeated like a mantra as you walked, phone in your pocket, sweater pulled tight against the night air.

if mina asked tomorrow why you’d been wandering around the docks at midnight, you’d say something reasonable. like i couldn’t sleep or i just wanted some fresh air. not i thought maybe i’d see a mythical merman you swear is real.

the town was quiet at this hour, the only sounds the distant hum of the highway and the occasional clang of loose metal somewhere along the shore. streetlamps cast pale halos on the pavement, but the further you went, the more the light faded until only the moon lit your path.

the smell of salt was sharper here, the water stretching black and endless beyond the harbor. you passed the last fishing boat tied up for the night, its paint chipped and nets drying stiff in the cold breeze. beyond it lay the forgotten part of the dock—narrow planks weathered to gray, ropes coiled like sleeping snakes, the creak of wood shifting with the tide.

your footsteps slowed.

the ocean here was different—no longer tamed by the breakwater and boats, it moved with a restless, hungry rhythm. you told yourself you were just curious about the way the moonlight painted the waves silver. not about whether something—or someone—was moving beneath them.

still, you found yourself leaning over the worn railing, scanning the water. the cold air prickled your skin. the tide was high, the surface deceptively calm, but every so often, a ripple passed against the current.

you frowned. just a fish. or maybe the wind.

or—

your sneaker slipped.

the board beneath your foot was slick with moss, and before you could catch yourself, your balance tilted. there was a single heartbeat of weightlessness, and then the ocean swallowed you whole.

the shock of the cold was a punch to the lungs. your breath exploded from you in a burst of bubbles, and seawater rushed into your mouth. the world above blurred into moonlit ripples as you sank, the weight of your clothes dragging you down.

you kicked upward, but the current tugged at your legs like invisible hands. panic bloomed hot in your chest. your thoughts narrowed to one desperate, animal instinct: breathe.

then—arms. strong, unyielding, sliding around your waist.

you were rising—fast. the water above broke open, and air slammed into your lungs in messy, gasping bursts. you coughed, choking on the salt, shivering from head to toe.

and there he was.

for one surreal second, you forgot to struggle. his face was inches from yours—long, wet strands of black hair clinging to his sharp jaw, skin kissed with moonlight. his eyes—god, his eyes—burned gold against the darkness, watching you with a focus that made the rest of the world fall away.

your friends’ voices were faint, somewhere far down the shore. mina’s call carried across the water, frantic and thin. the merman glanced toward the sound, his grip tightening for just a moment as if weighing something.

then he pushed you toward the shallows, the movement so fluid you almost didn’t realize what was happening until your knees hit the sand. you stumbled, coughing hard enough to see stars. when you looked back—

he was gone. the water was empty, the moon’s reflection unbroken.

by the time mina reached you, you’d wiped your face with shaking hands, forcing a smile that felt brittle.

“i slipped,” you said, voice rough. “i’m fine.”

you didn’t mention the arms that had pulled you up from the dark.

or how, even now, you swore you could still feel his gaze on you—like the tide, patient and inevitable.

you woke up feeling like you’d been hit by a wave.

literally.

your hair was still stiff from dried seawater, your throat raw, and every muscle in your arms ached from… well, you told yourself it was from trying to swim, but you knew better.

the golden eyes from last night hovered in your memory like an afterimage burned into your vision.

you pulled your blanket over your head, hoping the morning would just… pass you by.

no such luck.

your dorm door banged open and mina’s voice filled the room like an airhorn.

“alright, spill.”

you groaned, burrowing deeper into your blanket. “i’m sleeping.”

“no, you’re avoiding,” she said, crossing the room in three strides and yanking the blanket right off you. “do you know how freaked out we were last night? one second you’re there, next second—splash. i thought i was gonna have to jump in after you.”

“i told you, i slipped,” you mumbled, squinting against the light.

mina narrowed her eyes. “slipped… into the deep end of the ocean? with no railing? in the pitch dark?”

you rolled your eyes, sitting up. “it’s not like i planned it.”

“but…” she perched on the edge of your bed, lowering her voice. “when we got to you—you weren’t even that far from the shore. you should’ve been in the water way longer if you fell where i think you did. how’d you get to the shallows so fast?”

you hesitated. “uh… adrenaline?”

mina didn’t buy it. her eyes lit up in that way you recognized—she’d scented gossip. “oh my god. did someone help you? was there—” she gasped dramatically “—a man involved?”

“seriously?” you said, laughing in disbelief. “i almost drowned and your first thought is that it’s romantic?”

she leaned closer, grinning. “you’re avoiding the question.”

you grabbed your pillow and shoved it into her face. “i told you, i slipped. end of story.”

but when she finally left for her morning class, muttering something about “finding out eventually,” you found yourself staring out the window at the slice of sea visible between the buildings.

because no matter how many excuses you told mina, you knew the truth—

last night, someone had pulled you out of the water.

and his eyes were the kind you didn’t forget.

the weather was too nice for a tuesday.

that was the excuse mina used to round up the group—aya, kenji, yumi, and you—for lunch at the pier’s outdoor café. the sun sparkled off the waves, a soft breeze carried the smell of grilled fish from somewhere nearby, and gulls wheeled overhead like they owned the place.

“you’re buying this time,” aya told mina as they slid into a table. “last time you ‘forgot your wallet,’ which is code for ‘i spent it all on overpriced candles.’”

“they were worth it,” mina said, flicking open the menu with a flourish.

kenji was already pulling his phone out to take pictures of the water. yumi sat across from you, her chin propped on her hands as she watched a tourist family feeding seagulls. you smiled at their easy chatter, grateful for something normal after the weirdness of the last couple nights.

normal lasted about five minutes.

your gaze drifted—just for a second—past the café railing to where the open water began. the tide moved lazily today, sunlight turning the surface into shifting gold and blue. you told yourself you were just admiring the view. that you weren’t searching for…

something moved.

it was fast, darting just beneath the surface—a ripple that curved and vanished, too big to be a fish, too smooth to be driftwood. your heart stuttered.

you blinked, leaning forward instinctively, but it was gone.

“hey,” yumi said suddenly, pulling you back. “you’re staring again.”

you jerked upright. “what? no, i’m just… zoning out.”

mina’s head whipped around. “staring at what?” her tone was sharp, suspicious.

“nothing.” you picked up your menu, holding it like a shield. “just the water.”

kenji smirked. “don’t tell me you’re getting sucked into mina’s mermaid nonsense.”

“it’s not nonsense!” mina argued. “and you should’ve seen her face just now—she totally saw something.”

“i didn’t,” you said quickly, cheeks warming. “i mean, i didn’t see anything weird.”

aya leaned her elbows on the table, giving you a long, unreadable look. “you sure? because the way you’re fidgeting right now…”

“i’m fine,” you insisted, stabbing at the menu. “i’m ordering the fish tacos.”

but while your friends argued about whether it was cruel to eat seafood this close to the ocean, your eyes betrayed you—sliding back to the water one more time.

nothing moved this time.

and yet… you couldn’t shake the feeling someone out there was looking right back.

you didn’t mean to end up at the shore, yet again.

that’s what you told yourself, at least.

you’d just needed air after a long evening of cramming for exams, the dorm’s walls pressing in with the heat of too many laptops and too much caffeine. the streets had been quiet, the moon fat and low in the sky, and somehow your feet had carried you here—down the same path past the closed shops, the same pier where the lights didn’t quite reach the end.

the air tasted of salt and something heavier, like rain brewing far away. the tide moved in slow, rhythmic breaths, brushing foam along the sand before drawing back into the dark. you walked past the safer part of the dock without thinking, shoes crunching softly against the gritty boards.

when you stopped, it was at the spot where you’d fallen two nights ago.

your hand found the railing—cold, damp, familiar.

the water below was black glass, the moon’s reflection a wavering coin. at first, there was nothing but the hush of the sea. then—

a ripple.

it wasn’t big, but it wasn’t random either. it curved, disappeared, then returned closer, slicing the surface in silence. your chest tightened.

something rose from the dark.

first, the gleam of wet hair—long, dark as midnight, streaming in rivulets. then the line of a face breaking the surface, sharp and deliberate, like the sea had carved it from its own depths. his skin caught the moonlight, pale where the water kissed it, shadows clinging to the ridges of his cheekbones.

and then—his eyes.

gold. not the flat glint of metal, but molten, alive, holding the light in a way that made it feel like the moon had only been pretending to shine until now.

he was closer than you realized—close enough that you could see the faint pull of muscle in his shoulders as he rested his forearms on the dock’s edge. they were strong, defined, the kind of strength that came from moving through heavy water like it was nothing. droplets ran down his arms and chest, trailing over skin that shifted seamlessly into something darker just beneath the surface.

he looked at you without blinking.

your voice felt caught somewhere behind your ribs. “you…”

his head tilted, strands of wet hair sliding over one shoulder. when he spoke, his words were low and slightly rough, like he was shaping them carefully in a language he didn’t use often.

“why… come?”

you swallowed. “i… i didn’t mean to. i was just walking.”

“storm…” his gaze flicked briefly toward the horizon, where the sky was faintly bruised. “dangerous.”

something about the way he said it—short, clipped, but certain—made your pulse jump. you knew storms. you knew what they could do to a shoreline. but the way he said it made it sound like an inevitability, not a possibility.

“i’m fine,” you said, though it came out softer than you meant.

his golden eyes didn’t move from yours. “not… fine. fall… again.”

the memory of cold water closing over your head made your throat tighten.

you gripped the railing harder. “you were the one who—”

before you could finish, a voice called your name. far away, but close enough to break the stillness.

you turned your head toward the sound. when you looked back—he was already sinking away from the dock, movements silent and impossibly quick. the water swallowed him whole, leaving nothing but the faintest ring of ripples where he’d been.

your friends’ footsteps crunched on the sand behind you. mina was waving, aya and kenji trailing, their silhouettes bright against the glow of the pier’s lamps.

you forced yourself to step away from the railing.

but even as you walked toward them, you knew the image of him—dripping hair, molten eyes, the quiet dominance in the way he filled the space—wasn’t leaving you anytime soon.

you didn’t bother pretending tonight.

no flimsy excuses about “needing air” or “just going for a walk.”

you knew exactly why you slipped out of the dorm, hood pulled up against the drizzle, sneakers splashing through puddles.

you wanted to see him.

the storm was close now — the kind that made the air sharp in your lungs, the clouds hanging low like they were listening. the sea had already begun to turn, restless swells pushing against the breakwater. but the danger in it only made you walk faster.

the pier stretched ahead like a spine into the dark. no café lights, no tourists, no laughter. only the deep roar of waves against wood and the wind tugging at your clothes. you stopped at the farthest point, leaning against the slick railing, scanning the water.

he wasn’t there.

you told yourself you could wait. that you’d stay as long as it took, storm or not. the rain thickened, sliding down your cheeks, dripping from your lashes. you pushed your hood back, letting it soak you. maybe he wouldn’t come. maybe he’d decided you were just another land-bound fool who didn’t listen.

then, the water shifted.

it was subtle at first — a swell breaking differently, a shadow that didn’t move with the waves. and then, with a smooth, deliberate rise, he was there.

he came up slowly this time, hair slicked back from his face, shoulders breaking the surface first. the moon was gone, but the lightning in the clouds caught on the planes of his body — the curve of muscle in his arms, the slope of his collarbone, the faint trail of water carving down the center of his chest before vanishing beneath the surface.

even half-submerged, he looked powerful, like the sea didn’t move him so much as he allowed it to touch him.

his eyes found yours instantly. “come… why?”

you swallowed, the truth catching on your tongue before spilling out. “to see you.”

something flickered in his gaze. not surprise exactly, but a shift — like the current had just changed.

“danger,” he said simply, voice low.

“i don’t care.” you meant it, and the certainty in your own words startled you. “you told me to stay away during storms, but… i couldn’t.”

he came closer without breaking eye contact, the water parting around him. when his hands found the railing just beside yours, his nearness hit you like heat in the cold.

“you… strange,” he said finally, though there was no mockery in it. only that steady, unreadable weight.

your pulse was loud in your ears. “maybe.”

for a moment, the storm didn’t matter — the spray, the wind, the cold all faded under the way he looked at you. not with softness, but with a kind of assessing intensity, as if he were deciding whether you belonged here at all.

he reached out, slow enough for you to stop him if you wanted, and brushed the backs of his wet fingers against your wrist. it was barely a touch, but you felt it everywhere.

then he pushed back from the railing, disappearing beneath the water as quickly as he’d come, leaving only the storm behind.

you stood there long after he was gone, the wind biting at your skin, the rain running down your face.

and for the first time, you didn’t pretend you’d imagined him.

the sea was uncharacteristically gentle today.

no biting wind, no churning waves — just a slow, steady rhythm that sounded almost like breathing. the air was warm, salted and soft, the kind that made the sunlight pool lazily on the water’s surface.

it felt wrong not to be here in the chaos of a storm.

wrong, but… easier.

but you’d learned something about yourself lately: you were terrible at lying to yourself.

you were here because you hoped.

it started like before — a subtle shift in the water, too smooth to be random. but this time, he didn’t just rise out of nowhere. you saw him approach, a dark shape gliding beneath the surface until it broke with a ripple.

his hair clung wet to his shoulders, darker than the depths beneath him. droplets traced the strong lines of his arms as they emerged, his forearms braced easily against the dock’s edge. the sunlight caught his skin differently than moonlight — warmer, gilding the high planes of his cheekbones, igniting that molten gold in his eyes.

you had the strange thought that he didn’t look like he belonged to the sea so much as the sea belonged to him.

he watched you quietly for a moment, gaze steady. “come… again.”

you nodded. “i told you i would.”

one corner of his mouth moved — not quite a smile, but something that softened the edges of him. “why?”

“because…” you hesitated, feeling the heat of his eyes on you. “i wanted to see you.”

a pause. “strange.”

“you keep saying that,” you murmured, leaning just slightly closer.

he tilted his head, strands of hair sliding forward over his chest. “not… bad.”

something uncoiled in you at that — not quite relief, not quite thrill, but a quiet acknowledgment that you’d wanted his approval more than you’d realized.

the dock creaked beneath you as you shifted, sitting with your knees drawn up, your toes almost touching the edge where his hands gripped. the water between you seemed like both a barrier and an invitation.

“you…” his gaze dropped briefly to your hand resting on the wood, then lifted again. “name?”

you gave it, and hearing it in his low, deliberate voice felt like something was anchoring it in the air between you.

he didn’t give his in return. not yet.

instead, he leaned in just enough for you to catch the faint scent of salt clinging to his skin, the shadow of water beading along his jaw.

“careful,” he said, voice low, almost a warning. “sea… take.”

you tilted your head at him, searching his face. “what do you mean by that? sea… take what?”

his gaze didn’t waver. “many things.”

the vague answer made your brows draw together. “like what? boats? people?”

his fingers tightened slightly on the dock’s edge. “life.”

the word dropped heavy between you, pulled down by something more than its meaning.

you hesitated, then leaned forward a little. “is that what you are? something the sea uses to… take?”

for the first time, his eyes narrowed slightly — not in anger, but as if he was measuring whether to speak. “not… sea. me.”

that answer sent a shiver down your spine. “then… what are you?”

his gaze flicked away for a moment, scanning the endless blue behind you, then returned. “not… man. not… fish. you… say… ‘mer…’” he trailed off, as if the word felt strange on his tongue.

“mermaid,” you supplied quietly.

his lips twitched at the corner, like he was tasting the sound. “mer…man.”

your pulse quickened. “so it’s true. you’re real.”

he didn’t answer that — only tilted his head, watching you with that unnerving focus, as if you were the unusual creature here.

you took a slow breath. “do you have a name?”

he didn’t blink. “why… want?”

“because,” you said, your voice barely above the water’s whisper, “it feels wrong to keep calling you ‘the merman’ in my head.”

that almost-smile flickered again, but he stayed silent.

you pressed a little further. “have you… always been here? in this bay?”

his eyes softened — not warm, but quieter. “long… before you. before… town.”

you tried to picture that. this same shoreline without the docks, without the houses. just sea and sky — and him. “so you’ve seen a lot, then. people. ships. storms.”

he gave one slow nod. “too many.”

“do you ever talk to people? like this?”

his answer was immediate. “no.”

something in your chest caught. “then why me?”

for a moment, he said nothing. the air seemed to still between you. then his hand lifted from the railing, palm open. he didn’t touch you — just let it hover close enough that you could feel the cold radiating from his skin.

“you… come back,” he said simply.

your breath felt unsteady. “and you let me.”

another slow, assessing look. “not yet… take.”

the way he said it — low, deliberate — made your pulse jump. you didn’t know if it was a promise or a warning. maybe both.

you wanted to ask more, to press until he told you everything — about his past, about what “take” meant, about why he’d saved you in the first place. but you could feel the conversation thinning, like the tide pulling back.

he glanced toward the deeper water. “soon… storm.”

you leaned forward before he could leave. “will you tell me more? next time?”

a beat of silence. then —

“maybe.”

and with that, he pushed away from the dock, disappearing into the still water with barely a ripple.

you stayed there long after he was gone, staring at the place where the gold of his eyes had been, wondering why you already couldn’t wait for “next time.”

by friday, mina had stopped asking you directly about the merman.

which was worse — because now she was watching you instead.

you could feel her gaze from across the table at the café, even as aya and kenji argued over which film to see tonight. yumi was scrolling through her phone, nodding absently at something aya said, but mina’s eyes didn’t leave your face.

“what?” you asked finally.

“nothing,” she said sweetly. “except that you’ve been staring at the ocean every day like it owes you money.”

kenji snorted. “bet she’s waiting for her sea boyfriend to show up again.”

aya gave him a light shove. “oh, stop. she probably just likes the view.”

you forced a laugh, shoving your straw into your drink. “exactly. it’s called appreciating nature.”

mina’s knowing smile said she wasn’t convinced.

when the group made plans for a movie later, you begged off with an excuse about a headache. they didn’t push — too busy debating popcorn flavors — and soon you were walking alone toward the docks, the sky melting from gold to deepening blue.

the water was calm, the surface turning to glass as the sun slid lower. you sat at your usual spot near the end, legs drawn up, chin resting on your knees.

for a while, there was nothing but the hush of waves. you began to think maybe he wouldn’t come tonight. then—

a shadow below the surface, slow and deliberate.

suguru emerged with the tide, hair slick and dark, droplets tracing the ridges of his shoulders before dripping back into the sea. his eyes found yours immediately, and something eased in your chest you didn’t realize had been tight all day.

“you… here,” he said.

“i told you i’d come back.”

a faint tilt at the corner of his mouth. “why?”

you hesitated, then decided not to lie — not to yourself, not to him. “because i wanted to see you. again.”

he studied you for a long beat, then gave the smallest nod. “sure...”

you rested your chin on your knees. “can i ask you something?”

he inclined his head slightly.

“you’re a merman… right? or is that not what you call yourself?”

his gaze didn’t flicker. “word… old. but… yes.”

“are there more? like you?”

his fingers flexed against the dock’s edge. “many. far.”

“far where?”

he tilted his head, considering. “deep. cold. you… not go.”

the way he said it — blunt, almost protective — made you wonder what exactly was in those depths. “do they know you’re here?”

“no.”

“why not?”

“left… long ago.”

you leaned in slightly. “why?”

for a moment, he didn’t answer. then: “different. want… quiet.”

you thought about that — this powerful, otherworldly creature choosing solitude over his own kind. “and you’ve been here ever since?”

“yes.”

he looked at you for a while, and then asked, “you… live with many?”

“my friends,” you said. “not in the same house, but close. we go to the same school. we eat together, talk about stupid things…” you smiled faintly. “it’s… normal, i guess.”

he seemed to turn that word over in his head. “normal… good?”

“sometimes. sometimes boring.”

“boring...?” he frowned slightly, like the concept didn’t quite fit, like the word didn't actually made sense.

you shrugged. “it means… nothing exciting. the same every day.”

his eyes softened in a way you couldn’t quite read. “i… never boring.”

you laughed under your breath. “yeah. you’re definitely not boring.”

his eyes searched yours, as if weighing the truth in it. then, slowly, he extended one hand from the water, palm up.

you hesitated only a moment before setting your hand in his. his fingers were strong and calloused, but warm despite the cool sea.

he turned your hand slightly, studying it. “small,” he murmured. “soft.”

“you think so?” you said, almost laughing at the way he handled your fingers like they were something rare.

he glanced up at you. “fragile… not weak.”

that made your chest tighten unexpectedly. “you’ve been around humans before, haven’t you?”

“yes. long ago.”

“did you talk to them?”

a pause. “some. not… like this.”

something about the way he said it sent heat to your face.

you leaned forward slightly, your knees brushing the dock edge. “tell me more about your world. what’s it like?”

his gaze flicked toward the open water. “bright. dark. many colors you… never see. cold deep. warm near sun. voices carry far.”

“voices?”

“songs. calls. to find. to warn.”

“can you sing?” you teased lightly.

his mouth curved faintly. “maybe.”

you laughed under your breath, but before you could say more, his other hand came to rest against the edge near your hip. the movement was casual, but you could feel the way his presence filled the space between you.

“you… tell me now,” he said.

“tell you what?”

“your world.”

so you did. you told him about streetlights and music on phones, about the way coffee tasted bitter until you learned to love it, about lazy afternoons and crowded festivals. he listened without interrupting, eyes fixed on you like each word mattered.

when you finally paused, he said quietly, “strange… but want to see.”

the thought of him in your world made you smile. “maybe someday.”

he didn’t answer, but the look he gave you was unreadable — something between promise and warning.

the sky deepened into navy, the first stars blinking awake. the tide swayed lazily against the wood, and still, neither of you moved away.

when you finally stood, your legs a little stiff, you looked down at him. “will you be here tomorrow?”

his gaze locked with yours, steady and warm despite the cold sea clinging to his skin. “maybe.”

but this time, you had the feeling that “maybe” meant yes.

it was one of those warm, lazy afternoons where the air in the café felt heavier than usual. you were leaning over your laptop, pretending to focus, whe mina slid into the seat across from you with a bright grin.

“hey,” she said, sliding a small gold-wrapped box across the table. “special delivery.”

you blinked. “what is this?”

“imported chocolates,” she said with a conspiratorial smile. “kenji’s cousin works at that fancy confectionery on the other side of the city. they’re expensive as hell, so savor them.”

“that’s… generous.”

“i know. you can thank me by saving me the last piece,” she said, already halfway out of her chair to go place an order.

you turned the box in your hands, the foil catching the light. It was small — six perfect squares inside, each dusted with cocoa. they smelled rich, almost floral, and something about them made you think of velvet and heat.

by the time you got home, you’d only eaten one. not because you didn’t want more, but because the thought had taken root — suguru would never have tasted anything like this.

the idea made your pulse quicken.

that night, the moon was high and the tide calm. you walked to the docks with the small box tucked in your bag, the paper still faintly warm from your hands.

he was there when you arrived, emerging from the dark like he’d been waiting.

“you… come. again.” he said, the corner of his mouth curving faintly.

“i brought something,” you said, sitting on the edge of the dock. you set the box down carefully between you.

he eyed it with obvious suspicion. “what?”

“Food,” you said. “a sweet. something from my world.”

e swam closer, bracing himself against the dock. His wet hair clung to his shoulders, and his eyes flicked between the box and your face.

“you… eat first.”

you laughed softly and obliged, taking a small bite of one square. “see? not dangerous.”

he reached forward slowly, his fingers brushing yours as he took one. the way he examined it — turning it over in his palm before lifting it to his mouth — made you realize how strange this must be for him.

he bit into it. paused. his eyes widened slightly before narrowing, like he was trying to map the taste into something familiar.

“sweet,” he said after a long moment. “soft. warm.”

“do you like it?”

he nodded once, then took the rest in his mouth, chewing slowly. “more?”

you smiled and pushed the box toward him. “pace yourself. there’s only a few.”

but by the time you left, three more pieces were gone.

you thought it would be like the night before — him waiting, calm, curious. but when you reached the dock, the air felt heavier, as if the sea itself was holding its breath.

a ripple broke the stillness. then he rose from the black water, dripping and shadowed.

only… something was wrong.

his breathing was sharp, too fast. the gold in his eyes glowed unnaturally bright, almost feverish, and his gaze snapped to you the moment you stepped closer.

“you,” he said, voice low but hard-edged.

you froze. “suguru?”

his hands came to grip the dock, the wood groaning faintly under the force. “what… give me?"

the words were jagged, barely bridled.

“what are you talking about?” you asked, your own pulse quickening.

“the sweet. brown,” he growled. “burns inside. won’t stop. heart… fast. skin… fire.”

your stomach tightened. “i didn’t know—”

“you knew,” he snapped, surging up so his face was inches from yours. water streamed down his neck and shoulders, his muscles taut as if holding himself back. “human trick. poison.”

“it’s not poison,” you said quickly, but your voice caught. because now you could feel it too — not the crushing heat he described, but a low, creeping warmth curling in your stomach. the single piece of chocolate you’d eaten was enough to make your skin prickle under his stare.

he searched your face like he was trying to read your soul. “why… do this?”

“I didn’t,” you said again, more urgently. “I swear, I didn’t know. my friend gave it to me—”

“friend?” his voice twisted around the word like it was something dangerous. “this friend… wants me weak?”

“I didn’t know it would affect you like this,” you said, stepping back a fraction, though your eyes stayed on his. “suguru, I’m telling you the truth.”

his jaw clenched, the muscles in his arms flexing as his grip on the dock tightened. for a heartbeat, you thought he might disappear beneath the water entirely.

instead, he leaned even closer, his breath hot despite the night air. “feels like… can’t think. can’t… stop.”

and then, almost as if realizing how close he’d come, he pulled back just enough to look at you fully, eyes burning. “if lie… I find you. even in your world.”

his warning sent a shiver down your spine -not just from fear, but from the way his voice roughened, the way his eyes darkened with something primal. the air between you thickened, charged with tension that had nothing to do with anger anymore.

you swallowed hard. "I'm not lying."

suguru exhaled sharply through his nose, his nostrils flaring. the gold in his eyes flickered like embers, his pupils blown wide.

then, without warning, his hand shot out, fingers curling around your wrist. his grip was firm, almost bruising, but his skin was fever-hot, sending a jolt straight to your core.

"prove it," he growled.

your breath hitched. "h-how?"

his gaze dropped to your lips, then lower, lingering on the rapid rise and fall of your chest. the heat in his eyes wasn't just fury anymore—it was hunger. need.

"touch me," he demanded, voice rough. "show me you don't want to poison me."

your pulse thundered in your ears. slowly, hesitantly, you lifted your free hand and pressed your palm to his chest. his skin was slick with seawater, his heartbeat wild beneath your fingertips. a low, guttural sound escaped him, and suddenly, his other hand was on your waist, dragging you forward until your body was flush against his.

"you feel it too," he murmured, lips brushing your ear. "don't lie."

you could. the warmth from the sweet had spread through you, pooling low in your stomach, making your skin oversensitive. his breath against your neck sent another wave of heat through you, and you whimpered.

suguru didn't hesitate. with a growl, he closed the distance between your mouths, kissing you hard, almost punishing. his tongue slid against yours, tasting, and you melted into him, fingers tangling in his wet hair.

he broke away only long enough to drag you down onto the dock with him, the sudden movement making the old wood groan under your combined weight. His hands were everywhere — gripping your hips, sliding under your clothes, leaving hot, searing trails in their wake.

his breath was ragged, his pupils slitted, his golden eyes feral with hunger.

"suguru-"

"tell me," he demanded, hands sliding into your pants, fingers teasing your clothed entrance. "tell me you didn't know."

you gasped as his fingers rubbed againt your clit through your panties, a shiver running down your spine. "I didn't-ah!-I didn't know!"

he growled, low and dangerous. "liar."

but he's too far gone to stop.

Pulling your panties aside, suguru's fingers curled inside you, stretching, his thumb pressing cruel circles against your clit. you sobbed, oversensitive with chocolate–with aphrodisiac, but he doesn't care—he's furious at the way his body betrays him, at the way you make him need.

"take," he rasps, his other hand fisting in your hair, yanking your head back. "take fire you put in me."

your back bowed, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as he curled his fingers deep, scissoring, stretching. His thumb circled your clit with ruthless precision, and your hips jerked against his hand, chasing the friction.

"look at you," he growled, watching the way your body clenched around his fingers.

you whimpered, nails digging into the damp wood as he added a third finger, stretching you wider, preparing you for what was coming. the stretch burned in the best way, his knuckles pressing against your walls until your thighs trembled.

"s-suguru- too much-!"

he silenced you with another brutal kiss, his free hand fisting in your hair to tilt your head back. "not done yet," he murmured against your lips before adding a fourth finger, earning a sharp cry from your lips.

then, suddenly, his fingers were gone, leaving you empty and aching.

you barely had time to protest before he was flipping you onto your stomach, pressing your chest into the dock. his hands gripped your hips, yanking you back against him, and then-

he was pushing inside, inch by torturous inch, stretching you wider than his fingers had with his cock. your mouth fell open in a silent scream, fingers scrambling for purchase on the slick wood as he bottomed out, hips flush against your ass.

"nghm," he hissed, his entire body tensing above you. "tight—so tight..."

you couldn't speak. couldn't think. every nerve was alight, every breath ragged as he stayed buried inside you, letting you adjust to the overwhelming fullness.

then he moved.

a slow, deliberate drag out before slamming back in, punching a broken moan from your lips. his pace was relentless from the start—deep, punishing thrusts that had your vision blurring. the dock creaked beneath you, the sound drowned out by the slap of skin on skin, the ragged sounds of his breath in your ear.

"come," he growled, hand sliding between your legs, fingers finding your clit with unerring accuracy, the other hand kneading your breasts. he drew small circles with his thumb, pace quickening even more as his cock bullied your insides in the best and the worst possible way.

and you shattered.

your back arched as pleasure ripped through you, your walls clamping down on him in rhythmic pulses. he fucked you through it, his own release following seconds later-a deep, guttural groan against your skin as he spilled inside you, his hips stuttering as he rode out his orgasm.

for a moment, the only sounds were the waves lapping at the dock and your ragged breathing.

then his lips brushed your ear.

"don't posion again. or I make you cry.”

and with that, he dived into the water—but not before you saw him before giving you one last look.

the next morning, sunlight spilled across your window like it was trying too hard to be warm. you lay in bed longer than usual, your body heavy, your mind restless. every time you closed your eyes, you saw suguru’s face from last night — not the heat of it, but the way his eyes burned with accusation.

the memory sat in your chest like a stone. you’d meant to bring him something kind. instead, you’d given him… whatever that was.

by the time you stepped outside, the air had cooled. the sea breeze carried the faint scent of salt and kelp, and the distant cries of gulls echoed over the water.

you hesitated at the edge of the docks. he wasn’t there.

the absence was worse than his anger.

you set the small, empty chocolate box on the wood beside you, almost as if it might act as some kind of peace offering. you stayed like that for a while, legs dangling over the water, eyes scanning the waves for the shadow of movement.

but nothing came.

by late afternoon, you gave up and wandered back toward the café, the one where this whole mess had started. mina was already there, sipping something iced and pretending she wasn’t people-watching. she glanced up when you slid into the seat across from her.

“you look like you didn’t sleep,” she said, one brow arching.

“thanks,” you muttered. “about that chocolate—”

mina grinned. “good, right? kenji’s cousin says they put in this rare flower extract that makes the flavor stronger. reacts with body heat or something.”

you froze. “reacts… how exactly?”

mina just shrugged. “don’t know. why?”

you swallowed, eyes dropping to the condensation ring her glass had left on the table. “no reason.”

but the truth was already pressing against the edges of your thoughts: you had to find suguru again, and explain before he decided you’d done it on purpose.

you left the café with mina’s words still rattling in your head. rare flower extract. reacts with body heat. you didn’t need her to spell it out — you’d felt the way it had curled through you, low and slow, like embers under skin. and if it had been that strong for you…

you didn’t want to imagine what it had done to him.

the docks were empty again when you returned, the tide pulling away from shore with a soft hiss. you crouched at the edge, scanning the dark water for movement, but the surface stayed unbroken except for the ripples of wind.

“suguru?” your voice carried across the quiet, too thin, too human.

no answer.

you stayed until the sky turned a hazy orange, the shadows of the boats stretching long over the water. a shiver slid down your spine, not from cold, but from the feeling of being watched.

“stubborn.”

you spun, heart leaping. he stood at the far end of the dock, hair still damp, the loose strands clinging to his jaw. but there was distance in his eyes now — not the molten heat of last night, but something sharper, weighing you like a scale.

“i wanted to explain,” you said quickly. “the chocolate—”

“brown,” he interrupted. “sweet. makes blood run fast.” his gaze narrowed. “why give me?”

“i didn’t know it would affect you like that. my friend didn’t even know. she just said it was… exotic.”

he stepped closer, the wood groaning under his weight. “human plants are dangerous. some… change mind. body. make strong urges.”

your stomach knotted. “is that… what it did?”

he stopped a pace away, close enough that you could smell the salt on his skin. “burn.” he said simply. “and did not stop.”

“i’m sorry,” you said, meaning it. “i swear i wasn’t trying to—”

his eyes softened just barely, but his voice stayed low. “don't bring me gifts you don't know.”

you nodded, the knot in your chest loosening a fraction. “then… what can i bring you?”

he tilted his head, considering. “something not fire.”

there was a flicker in his expression then — not quite forgiveness, but something like it.

you shifted your weight to leave, but he stepped closer — close enough that the air seemed to thicken between you.

his gaze flicked to your wrist, then lower, scanning you in a way that felt… measured. his eyes weren’t sharp like before, but watchful, as if counting every breath you took.

he didn’t ask if you were hurt. he didn’t apologize. but his hand brushed yours briefly, almost absentminded, before falling away again — the smallest touch, like he needed to be sure you were still solid, still here.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. the water behind him lapped softly at the dock, and a gull cried somewhere far off.

you adjusted your weight, pushing yourself upright, and immediately felt the faint pull in your muscles. it wasn’t pain, exactly—more the reminder of how relentlessly he had taken you. a little too relentless, maybe. you tried not to wince, but the way his gaze flicked down to your hips and back up to your face made you wonder if he’d noticed.

“next time,” he said quietly, his voice carrying strangely well over the water, “you come with me. below.”

the words weren’t a question.

your heart skipped. “below… the water?”

his head tilted, eyes narrowing as if deciding how much to tell you. in the end, he only said, “you will see. sea keeps what it wants.”

and then, as quickly as he’d appeared, he slipped back into the dark, leaving only the ripples and the sound of your own heartbeat in the heavy air.

[sugurusbeloved]

愛 . . . │ intro! ˚ ⊹

(𝟅𝟈) about me, ─── daphne but feel free to call me whatever you want ◞ '05 kiddo ◞ enfp ◞ eng , tr , az ◞ rigorous virgo ◞ suguru's cunty doll ◞ yuuichi's little dove◞ proud kendrick lamar glazer ◞ written by stefan zweig.

(𝟅𝟈) interests, ─── doki doki literature club ◞ psychology ◞ writing poems ◞ lovely complex, felines ◞ indie games (esp that level again and lacey's wardrobe) ◞ reading.

(𝟅𝟈) hey! what are you listening to? ─── kendrick lamar ◞ lana del rey ◞ tv girl ◞ cigarettes after sex ◞ the smiths ◞ laufey ◞ gwen stefani ◞ şebnem ferah ◞ lady gaga ◞ kanye west ◞ mitski ◞ tyler the creator.

(𝟅𝟈) would you like to read... ─── governess ◞ a clockwork orange ◞ the melancholy death of oyster boy◞ pride and prejudice ◞ metamorphosis ◞ 1984◞ my sweet orange tree ◞ crime and punishment ◞ martin eden ◞ american pyhsco ◞ amok ◞ letter from an unknown woman ◞ and then they were none.

[sugurusbeloved]

someone please bully me into finishing love.exe 🥀

[sugurusbeloved]

Beneath The Tide - Suguru Geto

♆⋆ summary: you never believed mermaids, not even when your friend insisted they exist. you laughed her off, thinking it was just another childish dream–until that merman fucked you.

♆⋆ pairing: merman!suguru x f!reader

♆⋆ tags & warnings: MDNI. unprotected p in v, oral (f!receiving), fingering, aphrodisiac effects. mermaid au, modern setting, slow burn romance (?), fantasy romance, enemies to lovers kinda, possessive behavior, sea mythology, forbidden desire.

♆⋆ wc: 8k.

♆⋆ a/n: for anyone who's wondering how the fuck he has a dingly dong... when aroused or during mating season, his horse-sized thing protrudes from the penile slit above his anal slit. 🙏🏼

mdni divider by @/cafekitsune !!

the campus café smelled faintly of burnt espresso and rain-soaked pavement. outside, puddles reflected the cloudy sky, and inside, four of your friends sat crammed around a wobbly table that looked like it had survived a hurricane or two. you had been halfway through an overpriced iced latte when mina, the most dramatic of your group, leaned forward with the kind of gleam in her eyes that usually meant trouble.

“i’m telling you, it’s real,” she said, her voice a conspiratorial whisper. “people have seen him.”

“‘him’ who?” you asked, not looking up from your phone. you were knee-deep in a string of unread emails from your professor about next week’s lab schedule.

“the mermaid,” mina announced, as if that explained everything.

you blinked, finally glancing up. “the… mermaid?”

aya, sitting to your right, immediately jumped in. “not just any mermaid. a gorgeous one. long black hair, golden eyes. they say he’s been spotted near the east cliffs, where the water gets deep and the current’s dangerous.”

you set your phone down slowly. “we’re in college. aren’t we too old to be swapping ghost stories and fairy tales?”

“it’s not a fairy tale!” mina slammed her palm on the table, making the salt shaker jump. “three different people have seen him this summer. and last year? a fisherman claimed he heard someone singing out there at night. said the voice was so beautiful he nearly dove in without thinking.”

“that fisherman was drunk,” aya muttered, but still, she wore the same dreamy smile.

“you’re all serious about this?” you asked, eyebrows raised.

“yes,” mina said, “and apparently, if you meet his gaze, you’ll never be able to forget him.”

you scoffed, leaning back in your chair. “right. and then what? he drags you underwater to be his bride? i think you’ve been reading too much fanfiction.”

laughter rippled around the table, but it was tinged with that strange sort of uncertainty—like no one truly wanted to admit they were half-believing it. mina reached for her coffee, eyes narrowed in mock offense.

“fine, don’t believe us,” she said. “but when you see him, don’t come crying to me about how i didn’t warn you.”

the conversation shifted after that—someone brought up a new club on campus, another mentioned exam stress—but the mention of the mermaid lingered in the back of your mind like the taste of salt on your tongue.

that night, you lay in bed staring at your ceiling, the hum of your fan filling the silence. you tried to focus on your reading assignment, but every time you closed your eyes, you imagined deep, dark water stretching endlessly in every direction.

and somewhere in it—someone watching.

you turned over, huffing at yourself. ridiculous. mina’s story had just been meant for laughs. but…

you found yourself wondering, against your better judgment, what kind of eyes this so-called mermaid would have. and why you almost wanted to see them for yourself.

two days later, you weren’t planning to go anywhere near the ocean.

your plan for the afternoon had been simple: grab lunch, maybe catch up on some homework, and pretend the laundry pile in the corner of your dorm didn’t exist.

but mina had other ideas.

“you’re coming with us,” she announced, grabbing you by the wrist before you could protest.

“to where?”

“the docks. aya says her cousin has a boat, and he’s letting us hang out there.”

you dragged your feet a little. “why do i have a bad feeling this is about that stupid mermaid story?”

“it’s not stupid,” mina said, grinning. “and you’ll thank me when you see him.”

“uh-huh,” you muttered, though you followed anyway—mostly because you knew mina would haunt you with twenty unanswered messages if you didn’t.

the docks smelled like brine and engine oil, sunlight glinting off the water in blinding flashes. seagulls screamed overhead, swooping low enough to make you duck. aya’s cousin’s boat was small but tidy, rocking gently against the pier.

while aya and mina busied themselves taking selfies, you wandered to the edge of the dock. the water here was deeper than you expected, a green-blue shade that made you think of glass bottles. tiny fish flickered just beneath the surface, disappearing when your shadow passed over.

“don’t lean too far,” a voice called from behind you—aya’s cousin, carrying a coil of rope. “current’s strong today.”

you stepped back automatically, shoving your hands in your pockets. the sea stretched out endlessly beyond the harbor, and for some reason, you caught yourself scanning the waves, as if expecting… something.

no, not expecting. hoping.

ridiculous.

still, the image mina had planted in your head—long black hair, golden eyes—lingered stubbornly, as though the ocean itself was keeping the thought alive.

by the time you all headed back to campus, your hair smelled faintly of salt, and you had no idea why you kept glancing over your shoulder at the water.

you weren’t looking for him.

that’s what you told yourself—repeated like a mantra as you walked, phone in your pocket, sweater pulled tight against the night air.

if mina asked tomorrow why you’d been wandering around the docks at midnight, you’d say something reasonable. like i couldn’t sleep or i just wanted some fresh air. not i thought maybe i’d see a mythical merman you swear is real.

the town was quiet at this hour, the only sounds the distant hum of the highway and the occasional clang of loose metal somewhere along the shore. streetlamps cast pale halos on the pavement, but the further you went, the more the light faded until only the moon lit your path.

the smell of salt was sharper here, the water stretching black and endless beyond the harbor. you passed the last fishing boat tied up for the night, its paint chipped and nets drying stiff in the cold breeze. beyond it lay the forgotten part of the dock—narrow planks weathered to gray, ropes coiled like sleeping snakes, the creak of wood shifting with the tide.

your footsteps slowed.

the ocean here was different—no longer tamed by the breakwater and boats, it moved with a restless, hungry rhythm. you told yourself you were just curious about the way the moonlight painted the waves silver. not about whether something—or someone—was moving beneath them.

still, you found yourself leaning over the worn railing, scanning the water. the cold air prickled your skin. the tide was high, the surface deceptively calm, but every so often, a ripple passed against the current.

you frowned. just a fish. or maybe the wind.

or—

your sneaker slipped.

the board beneath your foot was slick with moss, and before you could catch yourself, your balance tilted. there was a single heartbeat of weightlessness, and then the ocean swallowed you whole.

the shock of the cold was a punch to the lungs. your breath exploded from you in a burst of bubbles, and seawater rushed into your mouth. the world above blurred into moonlit ripples as you sank, the weight of your clothes dragging you down.

you kicked upward, but the current tugged at your legs like invisible hands. panic bloomed hot in your chest. your thoughts narrowed to one desperate, animal instinct: breathe.

then—arms. strong, unyielding, sliding around your waist.

you were rising—fast. the water above broke open, and air slammed into your lungs in messy, gasping bursts. you coughed, choking on the salt, shivering from head to toe.

and there he was.

for one surreal second, you forgot to struggle. his face was inches from yours—long, wet strands of black hair clinging to his sharp jaw, skin kissed with moonlight. his eyes—god, his eyes—burned gold against the darkness, watching you with a focus that made the rest of the world fall away.

your friends’ voices were faint, somewhere far down the shore. mina’s call carried across the water, frantic and thin. the merman glanced toward the sound, his grip tightening for just a moment as if weighing something.

then he pushed you toward the shallows, the movement so fluid you almost didn’t realize what was happening until your knees hit the sand. you stumbled, coughing hard enough to see stars. when you looked back—

he was gone. the water was empty, the moon’s reflection unbroken.

by the time mina reached you, you’d wiped your face with shaking hands, forcing a smile that felt brittle.

“i slipped,” you said, voice rough. “i’m fine.”

you didn’t mention the arms that had pulled you up from the dark.

or how, even now, you swore you could still feel his gaze on you—like the tide, patient and inevitable.

you woke up feeling like you’d been hit by a wave.

literally.

your hair was still stiff from dried seawater, your throat raw, and every muscle in your arms ached from… well, you told yourself it was from trying to swim, but you knew better.

the golden eyes from last night hovered in your memory like an afterimage burned into your vision.

you pulled your blanket over your head, hoping the morning would just… pass you by.

no such luck.

your dorm door banged open and mina’s voice filled the room like an airhorn.

“alright, spill.”

you groaned, burrowing deeper into your blanket. “i’m sleeping.”

“no, you’re avoiding,” she said, crossing the room in three strides and yanking the blanket right off you. “do you know how freaked out we were last night? one second you’re there, next second—splash. i thought i was gonna have to jump in after you.”

“i told you, i slipped,” you mumbled, squinting against the light.

mina narrowed her eyes. “slipped… into the deep end of the ocean? with no railing? in the pitch dark?”

you rolled your eyes, sitting up. “it’s not like i planned it.”

“but…” she perched on the edge of your bed, lowering her voice. “when we got to you—you weren’t even that far from the shore. you should’ve been in the water way longer if you fell where i think you did. how’d you get to the shallows so fast?”

you hesitated. “uh… adrenaline?”

mina didn’t buy it. her eyes lit up in that way you recognized—she’d scented gossip. “oh my god. did someone help you? was there—” she gasped dramatically “—a man involved?”

“seriously?” you said, laughing in disbelief. “i almost drowned and your first thought is that it’s romantic?”

she leaned closer, grinning. “you’re avoiding the question.”

you grabbed your pillow and shoved it into her face. “i told you, i slipped. end of story.”

but when she finally left for her morning class, muttering something about “finding out eventually,” you found yourself staring out the window at the slice of sea visible between the buildings.

because no matter how many excuses you told mina, you knew the truth—

last night, someone had pulled you out of the water.

and his eyes were the kind you didn’t forget.

the weather was too nice for a tuesday.

that was the excuse mina used to round up the group—aya, kenji, yumi, and you—for lunch at the pier’s outdoor café. the sun sparkled off the waves, a soft breeze carried the smell of grilled fish from somewhere nearby, and gulls wheeled overhead like they owned the place.

“you’re buying this time,” aya told mina as they slid into a table. “last time you ‘forgot your wallet,’ which is code for ‘i spent it all on overpriced candles.’”

“they were worth it,” mina said, flicking open the menu with a flourish.

kenji was already pulling his phone out to take pictures of the water. yumi sat across from you, her chin propped on her hands as she watched a tourist family feeding seagulls. you smiled at their easy chatter, grateful for something normal after the weirdness of the last couple nights.

normal lasted about five minutes.

your gaze drifted—just for a second—past the café railing to where the open water began. the tide moved lazily today, sunlight turning the surface into shifting gold and blue. you told yourself you were just admiring the view. that you weren’t searching for…

something moved.

it was fast, darting just beneath the surface—a ripple that curved and vanished, too big to be a fish, too smooth to be driftwood. your heart stuttered.

you blinked, leaning forward instinctively, but it was gone.

“hey,” yumi said suddenly, pulling you back. “you’re staring again.”

you jerked upright. “what? no, i’m just… zoning out.”

mina’s head whipped around. “staring at what?” her tone was sharp, suspicious.

“nothing.” you picked up your menu, holding it like a shield. “just the water.”

kenji smirked. “don’t tell me you’re getting sucked into mina’s mermaid nonsense.”

“it’s not nonsense!” mina argued. “and you should’ve seen her face just now—she totally saw something.”

“i didn’t,” you said quickly, cheeks warming. “i mean, i didn’t see anything weird.”

aya leaned her elbows on the table, giving you a long, unreadable look. “you sure? because the way you’re fidgeting right now…”

“i’m fine,” you insisted, stabbing at the menu. “i’m ordering the fish tacos.”

but while your friends argued about whether it was cruel to eat seafood this close to the ocean, your eyes betrayed you—sliding back to the water one more time.

nothing moved this time.

and yet… you couldn’t shake the feeling someone out there was looking right back.

you didn’t mean to end up at the shore, yet again.

that’s what you told yourself, at least.

you’d just needed air after a long evening of cramming for exams, the dorm’s walls pressing in with the heat of too many laptops and too much caffeine. the streets had been quiet, the moon fat and low in the sky, and somehow your feet had carried you here—down the same path past the closed shops, the same pier where the lights didn’t quite reach the end.

the air tasted of salt and something heavier, like rain brewing far away. the tide moved in slow, rhythmic breaths, brushing foam along the sand before drawing back into the dark. you walked past the safer part of the dock without thinking, shoes crunching softly against the gritty boards.

when you stopped, it was at the spot where you’d fallen two nights ago.

your hand found the railing—cold, damp, familiar.

the water below was black glass, the moon’s reflection a wavering coin. at first, there was nothing but the hush of the sea. then—

a ripple.

it wasn’t big, but it wasn’t random either. it curved, disappeared, then returned closer, slicing the surface in silence. your chest tightened.

something rose from the dark.

first, the gleam of wet hair—long, dark as midnight, streaming in rivulets. then the line of a face breaking the surface, sharp and deliberate, like the sea had carved it from its own depths. his skin caught the moonlight, pale where the water kissed it, shadows clinging to the ridges of his cheekbones.

and then—his eyes.

gold. not the flat glint of metal, but molten, alive, holding the light in a way that made it feel like the moon had only been pretending to shine until now.

he was closer than you realized—close enough that you could see the faint pull of muscle in his shoulders as he rested his forearms on the dock’s edge. they were strong, defined, the kind of strength that came from moving through heavy water like it was nothing. droplets ran down his arms and chest, trailing over skin that shifted seamlessly into something darker just beneath the surface.

he looked at you without blinking.

your voice felt caught somewhere behind your ribs. “you…”

his head tilted, strands of wet hair sliding over one shoulder. when he spoke, his words were low and slightly rough, like he was shaping them carefully in a language he didn’t use often.

“why… come?”

you swallowed. “i… i didn’t mean to. i was just walking.”

“storm…” his gaze flicked briefly toward the horizon, where the sky was faintly bruised. “dangerous.”

something about the way he said it—short, clipped, but certain—made your pulse jump. you knew storms. you knew what they could do to a shoreline. but the way he said it made it sound like an inevitability, not a possibility.

“i’m fine,” you said, though it came out softer than you meant.

his golden eyes didn’t move from yours. “not… fine. fall… again.”

the memory of cold water closing over your head made your throat tighten.

you gripped the railing harder. “you were the one who—”

before you could finish, a voice called your name. far away, but close enough to break the stillness.

you turned your head toward the sound. when you looked back—he was already sinking away from the dock, movements silent and impossibly quick. the water swallowed him whole, leaving nothing but the faintest ring of ripples where he’d been.

your friends’ footsteps crunched on the sand behind you. mina was waving, aya and kenji trailing, their silhouettes bright against the glow of the pier’s lamps.

you forced yourself to step away from the railing.

but even as you walked toward them, you knew the image of him—dripping hair, molten eyes, the quiet dominance in the way he filled the space—wasn’t leaving you anytime soon.

you didn’t bother pretending tonight.

no flimsy excuses about “needing air” or “just going for a walk.”

you knew exactly why you slipped out of the dorm, hood pulled up against the drizzle, sneakers splashing through puddles.

you wanted to see him.

the storm was close now — the kind that made the air sharp in your lungs, the clouds hanging low like they were listening. the sea had already begun to turn, restless swells pushing against the breakwater. but the danger in it only made you walk faster.

the pier stretched ahead like a spine into the dark. no café lights, no tourists, no laughter. only the deep roar of waves against wood and the wind tugging at your clothes. you stopped at the farthest point, leaning against the slick railing, scanning the water.

he wasn’t there.

you told yourself you could wait. that you’d stay as long as it took, storm or not. the rain thickened, sliding down your cheeks, dripping from your lashes. you pushed your hood back, letting it soak you. maybe he wouldn’t come. maybe he’d decided you were just another land-bound fool who didn’t listen.

then, the water shifted.

it was subtle at first — a swell breaking differently, a shadow that didn’t move with the waves. and then, with a smooth, deliberate rise, he was there.

he came up slowly this time, hair slicked back from his face, shoulders breaking the surface first. the moon was gone, but the lightning in the clouds caught on the planes of his body — the curve of muscle in his arms, the slope of his collarbone, the faint trail of water carving down the center of his chest before vanishing beneath the surface.

even half-submerged, he looked powerful, like the sea didn’t move him so much as he allowed it to touch him.

his eyes found yours instantly. “come… why?”

you swallowed, the truth catching on your tongue before spilling out. “to see you.”

something flickered in his gaze. not surprise exactly, but a shift — like the current had just changed.

“danger,” he said simply, voice low.

“i don’t care.” you meant it, and the certainty in your own words startled you. “you told me to stay away during storms, but… i couldn’t.”

he came closer without breaking eye contact, the water parting around him. when his hands found the railing just beside yours, his nearness hit you like heat in the cold.

“you… strange,” he said finally, though there was no mockery in it. only that steady, unreadable weight.

your pulse was loud in your ears. “maybe.”

for a moment, the storm didn’t matter — the spray, the wind, the cold all faded under the way he looked at you. not with softness, but with a kind of assessing intensity, as if he were deciding whether you belonged here at all.

he reached out, slow enough for you to stop him if you wanted, and brushed the backs of his wet fingers against your wrist. it was barely a touch, but you felt it everywhere.

then he pushed back from the railing, disappearing beneath the water as quickly as he’d come, leaving only the storm behind.

you stood there long after he was gone, the wind biting at your skin, the rain running down your face.

and for the first time, you didn’t pretend you’d imagined him.

the sea was uncharacteristically gentle today.

no biting wind, no churning waves — just a slow, steady rhythm that sounded almost like breathing. the air was warm, salted and soft, the kind that made the sunlight pool lazily on the water’s surface.

it felt wrong not to be here in the chaos of a storm.

wrong, but… easier.

but you’d learned something about yourself lately: you were terrible at lying to yourself.

you were here because you hoped.

it started like before — a subtle shift in the water, too smooth to be random. but this time, he didn’t just rise out of nowhere. you saw him approach, a dark shape gliding beneath the surface until it broke with a ripple.

his hair clung wet to his shoulders, darker than the depths beneath him. droplets traced the strong lines of his arms as they emerged, his forearms braced easily against the dock’s edge. the sunlight caught his skin differently than moonlight — warmer, gilding the high planes of his cheekbones, igniting that molten gold in his eyes.

you had the strange thought that he didn’t look like he belonged to the sea so much as the sea belonged to him.

he watched you quietly for a moment, gaze steady. “come… again.”

you nodded. “i told you i would.”

one corner of his mouth moved — not quite a smile, but something that softened the edges of him. “why?”

“because…” you hesitated, feeling the heat of his eyes on you. “i wanted to see you.”

a pause. “strange.”

“you keep saying that,” you murmured, leaning just slightly closer.

he tilted his head, strands of hair sliding forward over his chest. “not… bad.”

something uncoiled in you at that — not quite relief, not quite thrill, but a quiet acknowledgment that you’d wanted his approval more than you’d realized.

the dock creaked beneath you as you shifted, sitting with your knees drawn up, your toes almost touching the edge where his hands gripped. the water between you seemed like both a barrier and an invitation.

“you…” his gaze dropped briefly to your hand resting on the wood, then lifted again. “name?”

you gave it, and hearing it in his low, deliberate voice felt like something was anchoring it in the air between you.

he didn’t give his in return. not yet.

instead, he leaned in just enough for you to catch the faint scent of salt clinging to his skin, the shadow of water beading along his jaw.

“careful,” he said, voice low, almost a warning. “sea… take.”

you tilted your head at him, searching his face. “what do you mean by that? sea… take what?”

his gaze didn’t waver. “many things.”

the vague answer made your brows draw together. “like what? boats? people?”

his fingers tightened slightly on the dock’s edge. “life.”

the word dropped heavy between you, pulled down by something more than its meaning.

you hesitated, then leaned forward a little. “is that what you are? something the sea uses to… take?”

for the first time, his eyes narrowed slightly — not in anger, but as if he was measuring whether to speak. “not… sea. me.”

that answer sent a shiver down your spine. “then… what are you?”

his gaze flicked away for a moment, scanning the endless blue behind you, then returned. “not… man. not… fish. you… say… ‘mer…’” he trailed off, as if the word felt strange on his tongue.

“mermaid,” you supplied quietly.

his lips twitched at the corner, like he was tasting the sound. “mer…man.”

your pulse quickened. “so it’s true. you’re real.”

he didn’t answer that — only tilted his head, watching you with that unnerving focus, as if you were the unusual creature here.

you took a slow breath. “do you have a name?”

he didn’t blink. “why… want?”

“because,” you said, your voice barely above the water’s whisper, “it feels wrong to keep calling you ‘the merman’ in my head.”

that almost-smile flickered again, but he stayed silent.

you pressed a little further. “have you… always been here? in this bay?”

his eyes softened — not warm, but quieter. “long… before you. before… town.”

you tried to picture that. this same shoreline without the docks, without the houses. just sea and sky — and him. “so you’ve seen a lot, then. people. ships. storms.”

he gave one slow nod. “too many.”

“do you ever talk to people? like this?”

his answer was immediate. “no.”

something in your chest caught. “then why me?”

for a moment, he said nothing. the air seemed to still between you. then his hand lifted from the railing, palm open. he didn’t touch you — just let it hover close enough that you could feel the cold radiating from his skin.

“you… come back,” he said simply.

your breath felt unsteady. “and you let me.”

another slow, assessing look. “not yet… take.”

the way he said it — low, deliberate — made your pulse jump. you didn’t know if it was a promise or a warning. maybe both.

you wanted to ask more, to press until he told you everything — about his past, about what “take” meant, about why he’d saved you in the first place. but you could feel the conversation thinning, like the tide pulling back.

he glanced toward the deeper water. “soon… storm.”

you leaned forward before he could leave. “will you tell me more? next time?”

a beat of silence. then —

“maybe.”

and with that, he pushed away from the dock, disappearing into the still water with barely a ripple.

you stayed there long after he was gone, staring at the place where the gold of his eyes had been, wondering why you already couldn’t wait for “next time.”

by friday, mina had stopped asking you directly about the merman.

which was worse — because now she was watching you instead.

you could feel her gaze from across the table at the café, even as aya and kenji argued over which film to see tonight. yumi was scrolling through her phone, nodding absently at something aya said, but mina’s eyes didn’t leave your face.

“what?” you asked finally.

“nothing,” she said sweetly. “except that you’ve been staring at the ocean every day like it owes you money.”

kenji snorted. “bet she’s waiting for her sea boyfriend to show up again.”

aya gave him a light shove. “oh, stop. she probably just likes the view.”

you forced a laugh, shoving your straw into your drink. “exactly. it’s called appreciating nature.”

mina’s knowing smile said she wasn’t convinced.

when the group made plans for a movie later, you begged off with an excuse about a headache. they didn’t push — too busy debating popcorn flavors — and soon you were walking alone toward the docks, the sky melting from gold to deepening blue.

the water was calm, the surface turning to glass as the sun slid lower. you sat at your usual spot near the end, legs drawn up, chin resting on your knees.

for a while, there was nothing but the hush of waves. you began to think maybe he wouldn’t come tonight. then—

a shadow below the surface, slow and deliberate.

suguru emerged with the tide, hair slick and dark, droplets tracing the ridges of his shoulders before dripping back into the sea. his eyes found yours immediately, and something eased in your chest you didn’t realize had been tight all day.

“you… here,” he said.

“i told you i’d come back.”

a faint tilt at the corner of his mouth. “why?”

you hesitated, then decided not to lie — not to yourself, not to him. “because i wanted to see you. again.”

he studied you for a long beat, then gave the smallest nod. “sure...”

you rested your chin on your knees. “can i ask you something?”

he inclined his head slightly.

“you’re a merman… right? or is that not what you call yourself?”

his gaze didn’t flicker. “word… old. but… yes.”

“are there more? like you?”

his fingers flexed against the dock’s edge. “many. far.”

“far where?”

he tilted his head, considering. “deep. cold. you… not go.”

the way he said it — blunt, almost protective — made you wonder what exactly was in those depths. “do they know you’re here?”

“no.”

“why not?”

“left… long ago.”

you leaned in slightly. “why?”

for a moment, he didn’t answer. then: “different. want… quiet.”

you thought about that — this powerful, otherworldly creature choosing solitude over his own kind. “and you’ve been here ever since?”

“yes.”

he looked at you for a while, and then asked, “you… live with many?”

“my friends,” you said. “not in the same house, but close. we go to the same school. we eat together, talk about stupid things…” you smiled faintly. “it’s… normal, i guess.”

he seemed to turn that word over in his head. “normal… good?”

“sometimes. sometimes boring.”

“boring...?” he frowned slightly, like the concept didn’t quite fit, like the word didn't actually made sense.

you shrugged. “it means… nothing exciting. the same every day.”

his eyes softened in a way you couldn’t quite read. “i… never boring.”

you laughed under your breath. “yeah. you’re definitely not boring.”

his eyes searched yours, as if weighing the truth in it. then, slowly, he extended one hand from the water, palm up.

you hesitated only a moment before setting your hand in his. his fingers were strong and calloused, but warm despite the cool sea.

he turned your hand slightly, studying it. “small,” he murmured. “soft.”

“you think so?” you said, almost laughing at the way he handled your fingers like they were something rare.

he glanced up at you. “fragile… not weak.”

that made your chest tighten unexpectedly. “you’ve been around humans before, haven’t you?”

“yes. long ago.”

“did you talk to them?”

a pause. “some. not… like this.”

something about the way he said it sent heat to your face.

you leaned forward slightly, your knees brushing the dock edge. “tell me more about your world. what’s it like?”

his gaze flicked toward the open water. “bright. dark. many colors you… never see. cold deep. warm near sun. voices carry far.”

“voices?”

“songs. calls. to find. to warn.”

“can you sing?” you teased lightly.

his mouth curved faintly. “maybe.”

you laughed under your breath, but before you could say more, his other hand came to rest against the edge near your hip. the movement was casual, but you could feel the way his presence filled the space between you.

“you… tell me now,” he said.

“tell you what?”

“your world.”

so you did. you told him about streetlights and music on phones, about the way coffee tasted bitter until you learned to love it, about lazy afternoons and crowded festivals. he listened without interrupting, eyes fixed on you like each word mattered.

when you finally paused, he said quietly, “strange… but want to see.”

the thought of him in your world made you smile. “maybe someday.”

he didn’t answer, but the look he gave you was unreadable — something between promise and warning.

the sky deepened into navy, the first stars blinking awake. the tide swayed lazily against the wood, and still, neither of you moved away.

when you finally stood, your legs a little stiff, you looked down at him. “will you be here tomorrow?”

his gaze locked with yours, steady and warm despite the cold sea clinging to his skin. “maybe.”

but this time, you had the feeling that “maybe” meant yes.

it was one of those warm, lazy afternoons where the air in the café felt heavier than usual. you were leaning over your laptop, pretending to focus, whe mina slid into the seat across from you with a bright grin.

“hey,” she said, sliding a small gold-wrapped box across the table. “special delivery.”

you blinked. “what is this?”

“imported chocolates,” she said with a conspiratorial smile. “kenji’s cousin works at that fancy confectionery on the other side of the city. they’re expensive as hell, so savor them.”

“that’s… generous.”

“i know. you can thank me by saving me the last piece,” she said, already halfway out of her chair to go place an order.

you turned the box in your hands, the foil catching the light. It was small — six perfect squares inside, each dusted with cocoa. they smelled rich, almost floral, and something about them made you think of velvet and heat.

by the time you got home, you’d only eaten one. not because you didn’t want more, but because the thought had taken root — suguru would never have tasted anything like this.

the idea made your pulse quicken.

that night, the moon was high and the tide calm. you walked to the docks with the small box tucked in your bag, the paper still faintly warm from your hands.

he was there when you arrived, emerging from the dark like he’d been waiting.

“you… come. again.” he said, the corner of his mouth curving faintly.

“i brought something,” you said, sitting on the edge of the dock. you set the box down carefully between you.

he eyed it with obvious suspicion. “what?”

“Food,” you said. “a sweet. something from my world.”

e swam closer, bracing himself against the dock. His wet hair clung to his shoulders, and his eyes flicked between the box and your face.

“you… eat first.”

you laughed softly and obliged, taking a small bite of one square. “see? not dangerous.”

he reached forward slowly, his fingers brushing yours as he took one. the way he examined it — turning it over in his palm before lifting it to his mouth — made you realize how strange this must be for him.

he bit into it. paused. his eyes widened slightly before narrowing, like he was trying to map the taste into something familiar.

“sweet,” he said after a long moment. “soft. warm.”

“do you like it?”

he nodded once, then took the rest in his mouth, chewing slowly. “more?”

you smiled and pushed the box toward him. “pace yourself. there’s only a few.”

but by the time you left, three more pieces were gone.

you thought it would be like the night before — him waiting, calm, curious. but when you reached the dock, the air felt heavier, as if the sea itself was holding its breath.

a ripple broke the stillness. then he rose from the black water, dripping and shadowed.

only… something was wrong.

his breathing was sharp, too fast. the gold in his eyes glowed unnaturally bright, almost feverish, and his gaze snapped to you the moment you stepped closer.

“you,” he said, voice low but hard-edged.

you froze. “suguru?”

his hands came to grip the dock, the wood groaning faintly under the force. “what… give me?"

the words were jagged, barely bridled.

“what are you talking about?” you asked, your own pulse quickening.

“the sweet. brown,” he growled. “burns inside. won’t stop. heart… fast. skin… fire.”

your stomach tightened. “i didn’t know—”

“you knew,” he snapped, surging up so his face was inches from yours. water streamed down his neck and shoulders, his muscles taut as if holding himself back. “human trick. poison.”

“it’s not poison,” you said quickly, but your voice caught. because now you could feel it too — not the crushing heat he described, but a low, creeping warmth curling in your stomach. the single piece of chocolate you’d eaten was enough to make your skin prickle under his stare.

he searched your face like he was trying to read your soul. “why… do this?”

“I didn’t,” you said again, more urgently. “I swear, I didn’t know. my friend gave it to me—”

“friend?” his voice twisted around the word like it was something dangerous. “this friend… wants me weak?”

“I didn’t know it would affect you like this,” you said, stepping back a fraction, though your eyes stayed on his. “suguru, I’m telling you the truth.”

his jaw clenched, the muscles in his arms flexing as his grip on the dock tightened. for a heartbeat, you thought he might disappear beneath the water entirely.

instead, he leaned even closer, his breath hot despite the night air. “feels like… can’t think. can’t… stop.”

and then, almost as if realizing how close he’d come, he pulled back just enough to look at you fully, eyes burning. “if lie… I find you. even in your world.”

his warning sent a shiver down your spine -not just from fear, but from the way his voice roughened, the way his eyes darkened with something primal. the air between you thickened, charged with tension that had nothing to do with anger anymore.

you swallowed hard. "I'm not lying."

suguru exhaled sharply through his nose, his nostrils flaring. the gold in his eyes flickered like embers, his pupils blown wide.

then, without warning, his hand shot out, fingers curling around your wrist. his grip was firm, almost bruising, but his skin was fever-hot, sending a jolt straight to your core.

"prove it," he growled.

your breath hitched. "h-how?"

his gaze dropped to your lips, then lower, lingering on the rapid rise and fall of your chest. the heat in his eyes wasn't just fury anymore—it was hunger. need.

"touch me," he demanded, voice rough. "show me you don't want to poison me."

your pulse thundered in your ears. slowly, hesitantly, you lifted your free hand and pressed your palm to his chest. his skin was slick with seawater, his heartbeat wild beneath your fingertips. a low, guttural sound escaped him, and suddenly, his other hand was on your waist, dragging you forward until your body was flush against his.

"you feel it too," he murmured, lips brushing your ear. "don't lie."

you could. the warmth from the sweet had spread through you, pooling low in your stomach, making your skin oversensitive. his breath against your neck sent another wave of heat through you, and you whimpered.

suguru didn't hesitate. with a growl, he closed the distance between your mouths, kissing you hard, almost punishing. his tongue slid against yours, tasting, and you melted into him, fingers tangling in his wet hair.

he broke away only long enough to drag you down onto the dock with him, the sudden movement making the old wood groan under your combined weight. His hands were everywhere — gripping your hips, sliding under your clothes, leaving hot, searing trails in their wake.

his breath was ragged, his pupils slitted, his golden eyes feral with hunger.

"suguru-"

"tell me," he demanded, hands sliding into your pants, fingers teasing your clothed entrance. "tell me you didn't know."

you gasped as his fingers rubbed againt your clit through your panties, a shiver running down your spine. "I didn't-ah!-I didn't know!"

he growled, low and dangerous. "liar."

but he's too far gone to stop.

Pulling your panties aside, suguru's fingers curled inside you, stretching, his thumb pressing cruel circles against your clit. you sobbed, oversensitive with chocolate–with aphrodisiac, but he doesn't care—he's furious at the way his body betrays him, at the way you make him need.

"take," he rasps, his other hand fisting in your hair, yanking your head back. "take fire you put in me."

your back bowed, a sharp cry tearing from your throat as he curled his fingers deep, scissoring, stretching. His thumb circled your clit with ruthless precision, and your hips jerked against his hand, chasing the friction.

"look at you," he growled, watching the way your body clenched around his fingers.

you whimpered, nails digging into the damp wood as he added a third finger, stretching you wider, preparing you for what was coming. the stretch burned in the best way, his knuckles pressing against your walls until your thighs trembled.

"s-suguru- too much-!"

he silenced you with another brutal kiss, his free hand fisting in your hair to tilt your head back. "not done yet," he murmured against your lips before adding a fourth finger, earning a sharp cry from your lips.

then, suddenly, his fingers were gone, leaving you empty and aching.

you barely had time to protest before he was flipping you onto your stomach, pressing your chest into the dock. his hands gripped your hips, yanking you back against him, and then-

he was pushing inside, inch by torturous inch, stretching you wider than his fingers had with his cock. your mouth fell open in a silent scream, fingers scrambling for purchase on the slick wood as he bottomed out, hips flush against your ass.

"nghm," he hissed, his entire body tensing above you. "tight—so tight..."

you couldn't speak. couldn't think. every nerve was alight, every breath ragged as he stayed buried inside you, letting you adjust to the overwhelming fullness.

then he moved.

a slow, deliberate drag out before slamming back in, punching a broken moan from your lips. his pace was relentless from the start—deep, punishing thrusts that had your vision blurring. the dock creaked beneath you, the sound drowned out by the slap of skin on skin, the ragged sounds of his breath in your ear.

"come," he growled, hand sliding between your legs, fingers finding your clit with unerring accuracy, the other hand kneading your breasts. he drew small circles with his thumb, pace quickening even more as his cock bullied your insides in the best and the worst possible way.

and you shattered.

your back arched as pleasure ripped through you, your walls clamping down on him in rhythmic pulses. he fucked you through it, his own release following seconds later-a deep, guttural groan against your skin as he spilled inside you, his hips stuttering as he rode out his orgasm.

for a moment, the only sounds were the waves lapping at the dock and your ragged breathing.

then his lips brushed your ear.

"don't posion again. or I make you cry.”

and with that, he dived into the water—but not before you saw him before giving you one last look.

the next morning, sunlight spilled across your window like it was trying too hard to be warm. you lay in bed longer than usual, your body heavy, your mind restless. every time you closed your eyes, you saw suguru’s face from last night — not the heat of it, but the way his eyes burned with accusation.

the memory sat in your chest like a stone. you’d meant to bring him something kind. instead, you’d given him… whatever that was.

by the time you stepped outside, the air had cooled. the sea breeze carried the faint scent of salt and kelp, and the distant cries of gulls echoed over the water.

you hesitated at the edge of the docks. he wasn’t there.

the absence was worse than his anger.

you set the small, empty chocolate box on the wood beside you, almost as if it might act as some kind of peace offering. you stayed like that for a while, legs dangling over the water, eyes scanning the waves for the shadow of movement.

but nothing came.

by late afternoon, you gave up and wandered back toward the café, the one where this whole mess had started. mina was already there, sipping something iced and pretending she wasn’t people-watching. she glanced up when you slid into the seat across from her.

“you look like you didn’t sleep,” she said, one brow arching.

“thanks,” you muttered. “about that chocolate—”

mina grinned. “good, right? kenji’s cousin says they put in this rare flower extract that makes the flavor stronger. reacts with body heat or something.”

you froze. “reacts… how exactly?”

mina just shrugged. “don’t know. why?”

you swallowed, eyes dropping to the condensation ring her glass had left on the table. “no reason.”

but the truth was already pressing against the edges of your thoughts: you had to find suguru again, and explain before he decided you’d done it on purpose.

you left the café with mina’s words still rattling in your head. rare flower extract. reacts with body heat. you didn’t need her to spell it out — you’d felt the way it had curled through you, low and slow, like embers under skin. and if it had been that strong for you…

you didn’t want to imagine what it had done to him.

the docks were empty again when you returned, the tide pulling away from shore with a soft hiss. you crouched at the edge, scanning the dark water for movement, but the surface stayed unbroken except for the ripples of wind.

“suguru?” your voice carried across the quiet, too thin, too human.

no answer.

you stayed until the sky turned a hazy orange, the shadows of the boats stretching long over the water. a shiver slid down your spine, not from cold, but from the feeling of being watched.

“stubborn.”

you spun, heart leaping. he stood at the far end of the dock, hair still damp, the loose strands clinging to his jaw. but there was distance in his eyes now — not the molten heat of last night, but something sharper, weighing you like a scale.

“i wanted to explain,” you said quickly. “the chocolate—”

“brown,” he interrupted. “sweet. makes blood run fast.” his gaze narrowed. “why give me?”

“i didn’t know it would affect you like that. my friend didn’t even know. she just said it was… exotic.”

he stepped closer, the wood groaning under his weight. “human plants are dangerous. some… change mind. body. make strong urges.”

your stomach knotted. “is that… what it did?”

he stopped a pace away, close enough that you could smell the salt on his skin. “burn.” he said simply. “and did not stop.”

“i’m sorry,” you said, meaning it. “i swear i wasn’t trying to—”

his eyes softened just barely, but his voice stayed low. “don't bring me gifts you don't know.”

you nodded, the knot in your chest loosening a fraction. “then… what can i bring you?”

he tilted his head, considering. “something not fire.”

there was a flicker in his expression then — not quite forgiveness, but something like it.

you shifted your weight to leave, but he stepped closer — close enough that the air seemed to thicken between you.

his gaze flicked to your wrist, then lower, scanning you in a way that felt… measured. his eyes weren’t sharp like before, but watchful, as if counting every breath you took.

he didn’t ask if you were hurt. he didn’t apologize. but his hand brushed yours briefly, almost absentminded, before falling away again — the smallest touch, like he needed to be sure you were still solid, still here.

for a moment, neither of you spoke. the water behind him lapped softly at the dock, and a gull cried somewhere far off.

you adjusted your weight, pushing yourself upright, and immediately felt the faint pull in your muscles. it wasn’t pain, exactly—more the reminder of how relentlessly he had taken you. a little too relentless, maybe. you tried not to wince, but the way his gaze flicked down to your hips and back up to your face made you wonder if he’d noticed.

“next time,” he said quietly, his voice carrying strangely well over the water, “you come with me. below.”

the words weren’t a question.

your heart skipped. “below… the water?”

his head tilted, eyes narrowing as if deciding how much to tell you. in the end, he only said, “you will see. sea keeps what it wants.”

and then, as quickly as he’d appeared, he slipped back into the dark, leaving only the ripples and the sound of your own heartbeat in the heavy air.

[sugurusbeloved]

18+ : virgin!reader x bf!gojo ノ satoru can't get the tip in—even after an hour.

satoru was many things—strongest sorcerer, effortlessly arrogant, a man who could bend reality to his will.

right now? he was a whiny, desperate mess.

“come onnnn,” he groaned, forehead pressed to your thigh, fingers locked on your hips like he could physically force your body to cooperate. his cock—thick, flushed, leaking—caught at your entrance again, only for you to clench down, trembling, your body refusing him.

you were already ruined beneath him—slick thighs, voice wrecked from begging, skin humming from the hours he’d spent on you. his tongue had mapped you inch by inch, his fingers curling just right until you saw white… and still, none of it mattered.

because he couldn’t even get the tip in.

it wasn't supposed to be this hard. you'd known it would hurt—virgin or not, you weren't that naive-but the reality of him, the sheer size of him, had your body locking up in instinctive panic.

“fuck—fuck—” he hissed, the usual lazy smirk gone. sweat dampened his hair, his jaw flexing as he ground himself against you instead, the swollen head dragging through your soaked folds like it was torture. “you’re killing me here, baby. literally killing me.”

your hips twitched when he brushed your clit, and a broken sound caught in your throat.

“s–satoru—”

“i know,” he groaned, throwing his head back like the ceiling had the answers. “i know. i’m trying—fuck—why won’t you just take it?” the edge of desperation in his voice was unpolished, raw.

he adjusted, forcing your thighs wider, the press of him at your entrance almost unbearable. you fluttered around nothing, and he made a choked, half-feral noise.

“you’re taunting me,” he accused, breathless. “you think this is funny?”

it wasn’t—not with how badly you wanted him inside.

he tried and failed again.

both of you groaned in frustration, his cock twitching against your thigh. then he collapsed forward, cheek to your stomach, voice muffled against your skin. “an hour,” he mumbled. “a whole fucking hour. i’ve eaten you out, fingered you, rubbed you—what do you want, a blood sacrifice?”

your fingers tangled in his sweat-damp hair. his glare upward would’ve been more intimidating if not for the pout.

“maybe…” you panted, “…you’re just too big.”

everything about him stilled.

“…excuse me?”

you didn’t get the satisfaction of repeating it—because the next second, he was dragging himself through your folds again, slow, deliberate, wringing another gasp from you.

“oh, so now it’s my fault?” his voice was hoarse, mocking. “sweetheart, you're the one who's never taken a cock before. I should sue you for emotional damages.”

before you could fire back, he yanked you down the bed with one sharp pull, your startled yelp cutting off in a gasp.

“nope,” he said, bracing himself between your spread thighs, gaze dark and fixed. “we’re finishing this. i don’t care if it takes another hour—i’m getting inside you if it’s the last thing i do.”

cool air kissed your overheated skin, his grip on you unrelenting. the tip of his cock pressed, slipped, pressed again—just enough to make your whole body tense.

“calling me 'too big' like it’s me problem,” he muttered, nostrils flaring.

you opened your mouth to taunt him—only to choke on a moan when he bent, tongue sliding up your slit in one hot, wet stripe.

“satoru—!”

“shh.” his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking slow and deliberate, before dipping lower to tease the spot he wanted to be. “helping you adjust.”

“you—ah—you’re the one who can’t—”

he pulled back with a wet sound, eyes locked on yours. “finish that sentence. i dare you.”

you swallowed hard and he smirked—that cocky, infuriating one—before hiking your leg over his shoulder, angling you open in a way that made your pulse stutter.

“let’s try this again.”

this time, your body gave in.

the stretch was obscene—your spine bowed, a cry ripping from your chest. satoru’s groan was guttural, his fingers bruising your hip.

“fuck,” he hissed, forehead dropping to yours. “finally.”

the moment he bottomed out, he pulled back and slammed home again, each thrust punching air from your lungs.

“told you,” he panted, relentless, sweat dripping onto your flushed skin. “told you i’d get in.”

[sugurusbeloved]

18+ : virgin!reader x bf!gojo ノ satoru can't get the tip in—even after an hour.

satoru was many things—strongest sorcerer, effortlessly arrogant, a man who could bend reality to his will.

right now? he was a whiny, desperate mess.

“come onnnn,” he groaned, forehead pressed to your thigh, fingers locked on your hips like he could physically force your body to cooperate. his cock—thick, flushed, leaking—caught at your entrance again, only for you to clench down, trembling, your body refusing him.

you were already ruined beneath him—slick thighs, voice wrecked from begging, skin humming from the hours he’d spent on you. his tongue had mapped you inch by inch, his fingers curling just right until you saw white… and still, none of it mattered.

because he couldn’t even get the tip in.

it wasn't supposed to be this hard. you'd known it would hurt—virgin or not, you weren't that naive-but the reality of him, the sheer size of him, had your body locking up in instinctive panic.

“fuck—fuck—” he hissed, the usual lazy smirk gone. sweat dampened his hair, his jaw flexing as he ground himself against you instead, the swollen head dragging through your soaked folds like it was torture. “you’re killing me here, baby. literally killing me.”

your hips twitched when he brushed your clit, and a broken sound caught in your throat.

“s–satoru—”

“i know,” he groaned, throwing his head back like the ceiling had the answers. “i know. i’m trying—fuck—why won’t you just take it?” the edge of desperation in his voice was unpolished, raw.

he adjusted, forcing your thighs wider, the press of him at your entrance almost unbearable. you fluttered around nothing, and he made a choked, half-feral noise.

“you’re taunting me,” he accused, breathless. “you think this is funny?”

it wasn’t—not with how badly you wanted him inside.

he tried and failed again.

both of you groaned in frustration, his cock twitching against your thigh. then he collapsed forward, cheek to your stomach, voice muffled against your skin. “an hour,” he mumbled. “a whole fucking hour. i’ve eaten you out, fingered you, rubbed you—what do you want, a blood sacrifice?”

your fingers tangled in his sweat-damp hair. his glare upward would’ve been more intimidating if not for the pout.

“maybe…” you panted, “…you’re just too big.”

everything about him stilled.

“…excuse me?”

you didn’t get the satisfaction of repeating it—because the next second, he was dragging himself through your folds again, slow, deliberate, wringing another gasp from you.

“oh, so now it’s my fault?” his voice was hoarse, mocking. “sweetheart, you're the one who's never taken a cock before. I should sue you for emotional damages.”

before you could fire back, he yanked you down the bed with one sharp pull, your startled yelp cutting off in a gasp.

“nope,” he said, bracing himself between your spread thighs, gaze dark and fixed. “we’re finishing this. i don’t care if it takes another hour—i’m getting inside you if it’s the last thing i do.”

cool air kissed your overheated skin, his grip on you unrelenting. the tip of his cock pressed, slipped, pressed again—just enough to make your whole body tense.

“calling me 'too big' like it’s me problem,” he muttered, nostrils flaring.

you opened your mouth to taunt him—only to choke on a moan when he bent, tongue sliding up your slit in one hot, wet stripe.

“satoru—!”

“shh.” his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking slow and deliberate, before dipping lower to tease the spot he wanted to be. “helping you adjust.”

“you—ah—you’re the one who can’t—”

he pulled back with a wet sound, eyes locked on yours. “finish that sentence. i dare you.”

you swallowed hard and he smirked—that cocky, infuriating one—before hiking your leg over his shoulder, angling you open in a way that made your pulse stutter.

“let’s try this again.”

this time, your body gave in.

the stretch was obscene—your spine bowed, a cry ripping from your chest. satoru’s groan was guttural, his fingers bruising your hip.

“fuck,” he hissed, forehead dropping to yours. “finally.”

the moment he bottomed out, he pulled back and slammed home again, each thrust punching air from your lungs.

“told you,” he panted, relentless, sweat dripping onto your flushed skin. “told you i’d get in.”

[sugurusbeloved]

+18 : bf!gojo x asexual!reader ノ you always thought dicks looked disgusting... until you saw his.

the first time you understood you were asexual, it was as if a heavy weight slid from your shoulders, leaving you strangely lighter.

you had never grasped the fuss about sex—the way people whispered about it, ached for it, lost themselves in it. to you, the idea was not merely unappealing but unsettling, even repulsive.

the sight of bare dicks, the thought of intimacy, the way men’s eyes sometimes lingered on you with a hunger—it all made your skin tighten and your breath grow thin. eventually, you accepted it as simply who you were.

and then there was satoru, your oh-so-sweet boyfriend.

he was different.

not because he lacked desire—oh, you knew he wanted you. you saw it in the way his gaze held yours just a moment too long when you stretched, in the subtle tension in his fingers when you leaned closer.

but he never pressed, never treated affection as currency you owed him in return. he was patient. gentle. endlessly teasing, yes, but never unkind.

you loved him for that.

yet love alone didn’t quiet the twist of unease in your stomach at the thought of sex.

or at least, it hadn’t, until tonight.

___

you hadn't meant to walk in on him.

the mission had been brutal-days of exhaustion, of pushing your body beyond its limits. all you wanted was to collapse into bed, to let satoru's warmth soothe the ache in your bones.

but when you pushed open the bedroom door, the sight before you froze you in place.

satoru was sprawled across the bed, shirtless, his sweatpants pushed low on his hips. his hand was wrapped around his cock, stroking himself with slow, deliberate movements. his breath was heavy, his lips parted, his lashes fluttering as his head tinned back against the pillows

and in his other hand-your panties.

the delicate fabric was pressed against his face, his nose buried in them as he inhaled deeply, a low groan rumbling in his chest.

your heart pounded so loudly you were sure he'd hear it.

but he didn't.

he was lost in his own pleasure, his hips rolling up into his fist, his muscles tensing with every drag of his hand. his cock was thick, flushed red at the tip, pre-cum glistening as he worked himself faster, spitting right onto his cock.

and for the first time in your life, you didn't look away.

you felt a strange heat.

a slow, curling warmth pooling low in your stomach, spreading through your veins like liquid fire. your breath hitched, your fingers twitching at your sides as you watched him.

he was beautiful like this-desperate, unguarded. the way his throat worked as he swallowed a moan, the way his abs flexed with every thrust of his hips.

and the sounds—God, the sounds.

his breathy gasps, the slick slide of his palm over his length, the broken whisper of your name as his grip tightened.

you should leave. you knew you should leave. but then his eyes opened–blue, electric, burning straight into yours.

for a heartbeat, neither of you moved.

then his lips curled into a smirk-slow, sinful.

"like what you see, sweetheart?"

[sugurusbeloved]

18+ : bf!gojo x asexual!reader ノ you always thought dicks looked disgusting... until you saw his.

the first time you understood you were asexual, it was as if a heavy weight slid from your shoulders, leaving you strangely lighter.

you had never grasped the fuss about sex—the way people whispered about it, ached for it, lost themselves in it. to you, the idea was not merely unappealing but unsettling, even repulsive.

the sight of bare dicks, the thought of intimacy, the way men’s eyes sometimes lingered on you with a hunger—it all made your skin tighten and your breath grow thin. eventually, you accepted it as simply who you were.

and then there was satoru, your oh-so-sweet boyfriend.

he was different.

not because he lacked desire—oh, you knew he wanted you. you saw it in the way his gaze held yours just a moment too long when you stretched, in the subtle tension in his fingers when you leaned closer.

but he never pressed, never treated affection as currency you owed him in return. he was patient. gentle. endlessly teasing, yes, but never unkind.

you loved him for that.

yet love alone didn’t quiet the twist of unease in your stomach at the thought of sex.

or at least, it hadn’t, until tonight.

___

you hadn't meant to walk in on him.

the mission had been brutal-days of exhaustion, of pushing your body beyond its limits. all you wanted was to collapse into bed, to let satoru's warmth soothe the ache in your bones.

but when you pushed open the bedroom door, the sight before you froze you in place.

satoru was sprawled across the bed, shirtless, his sweatpants pushed low on his hips. his hand was wrapped around his cock, stroking himself with slow, deliberate movements. his breath was heavy, his lips parted, his lashes fluttering as his head tinned back against the pillows

and in his other hand-your panties.

the delicate fabric was pressed against his face, his nose buried in them as he inhaled deeply, a low groan rumbling in his chest.

your heart pounded so loudly you were sure he'd hear it.

but he didn't.

he was lost in his own pleasure, his hips rolling up into his fist, his muscles tensing with every drag of his hand. his cock was thick, flushed red at the tip, pre-cum glistening as he worked himself faster, spitting right onto his cock.

and for the first time in your life, you didn't look away.

you felt a strange heat.

a slow, curling warmth pooling low in your stomach, spreading through your veins like liquid fire. your breath hitched, your fingers twitching at your sides as you watched him.

he was beautiful like this-desperate, unguarded. the way his throat worked as he swallowed a moan, the way his abs flexed with every thrust of his hips.

and the sounds—God, the sounds.

his breathy gasps, the slick slide of his palm over his length, the broken whisper of your name as his grip tightened.

you should leave. you knew you should leave. but then his eyes opened–blue, electric, burning straight into yours.

for a heartbeat, neither of you moved.

then his lips curled into a smirk-slow, sinful.

"like what you see, sweetheart?"

[sugurusbeloved]

ᘛᰍ𝅄 ׁ 𝗦𝗢𝗟𝗢⨾

⟢ 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

⟢ 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎

⟢ 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 [soon]

⟢ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 [soon]

⟢ 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 [soon]

⟢ 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 𝐊𝐀𝐌𝐎 [soon]

ᘛᰍ𝅄 ׁ 𝗠𝗨𝗟𝗧𝗜⨾

WIP!

©sugurusbeloved — 𝖯𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒, 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗀𝗂𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗓𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄. 𝖱𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾, 𝖾𝖿𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗂𝗍.

[sugurusbeloved]

!! SERIES !!

⤿ 𝖠𝗌𝗁𝖾𝗌 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝖮𝖺𝗍𝗁𝗌: You, Princess of the Empire of Japan, find a boy standing in the ruins of his village and decide to bring him back to the palace. Though distant and cold at first, He grows into your fiercest protector, eventually earning his place as your most trusted royal guard.

!! ONE-SHOTS !!

⤿ 𝖡𝖾𝗇𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖳𝗂𝖽𝖾: you never believed mermaids, not even when your friend insisted they exist. you laughed her off, thinking it was just another childish dream–until that merman fucked you.

!! DRABBLES !!

[soon]

©sugurusbeloved — 𝖯𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒, 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗀𝗂𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗓𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄. 𝖱𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾, 𝖾𝖿𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗂𝗍.

divider by @/cafekitsune ^^

[sugurusbeloved]

!! SERIES !!

⤿ 𝖫𝗈𝗏𝖾.𝖾𝗑𝖾: satoru is a genius-level nerd with a hopeless, painfully obvious crush on his sarcastic, emotionally unavailable roommate—you.

!! ONE-SHOTS !!

[soon]

!! DRABBLES !!

⤿ you always thought dicks looked disgusting... until you saw his.

⤿ he can't get the tip in—even after an hour.

©sugurusbeloved — 𝖯𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖼𝗈𝗉𝗒, 𝗉𝗅𝖺𝗀𝗂𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗓𝖾 𝗈𝗋 𝗍𝗋𝖺𝗇𝗌𝗅𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗆𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗄. 𝖱𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾, 𝖾𝖿𝖿𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖼𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗂𝗏𝗂𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗐𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝗂𝗇𝗍𝗈 𝗂𝗍.

divider by @/cafekitsune ^^

[sugurusbeloved]

Ashes and Oaths – Ending Two

🜼 ⋆ Pairing: royal guard! suguru x princess! reader

🜼 ⋆ Tags: MDNI. oral sex, dirty talk (kinda), breeding kink,historical fantasy, historical setting (edo period), slow burn, possessive & protective love, princess x guard.

🜼 ⋆ wc: 2.2k

🜼 ⋆ Note: uhhh 😞

divivers by: @/cursed-carmine and @/hyuneskkami !!

<< part 1 — part 2.

The forest felt too big without him.

The door had barely stopped swaying from Suguru’s departure when the weight of silence settled over you. You tried to sit by the fire, tried to let the steady rise and fall of the flames be enough — but every creak of the wood, every whisper of leaves outside pulled your mind to him.

He’d said two days.

You knew you should wait.

And yet, half an hour later, you were on your feet, shoving the last of the embers into life, tucking your torn robe tighter around you.

If something happens to him out there… I can’t just sit here and find out later.

The forest swallowed the hut quickly. The path was faint, marked only by the disturbance of leaves and the occasional imprint of his boot in damp earth. You followed each trace with stubborn precision, heart thudding faster the deeper you went.

You found him by the stream.

Or rather, he found you — his voice cutting through the underbrush like a blade.

“What the hell are you doing here?”

The edge in his tone froze your steps. He stood just ahead, sword in hand, the damp morning light glinting along the steel. His eyes — sharp, dark — held no relief at seeing you. Only anger.

“I—”

“I told you to stay.” His voice was low, almost a growl. “Do you know how dangerous—”

The sound of movement in the trees interrupted him.

He swore under his breath, moving to stand between you and the noise without hesitation. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Figures emerged from the shadows — the same borderland garb, the same cruel eyes. Suguru shifted his grip on the sword, the tension in his body electric.

The fight was fast and brutal.

He moved like a storm breaking over the forest — every strike deliberate, every block a wall between you and the blades aimed your way. When one slipped past, he caught it across his arm rather than let it reach you.

You barely realized you’d been holding your breath until the last man fell, the forest quiet again except for Suguru’s ragged inhale.

He turned to you, sweat and blood mixing on his skin. “Stay close. You follow me now — since you can’t seem to follow orders.”

There was no softness in his tone, but his hand still found yours as he pulled you forward.

Hours later, the palace walls rose in the distance, pale in the afternoon light.

You felt Suguru’s pace quicken. His grip on his sword was different now — not the measured caution of the forest, but the simmering, purposeful hold of someone who had been waiting for this moment.

The gates were already broken, their hinges twisted like bent wire. Inside, the courtyard was scattered with the bodies of the minorities who had dared to come here. The air was heavy with the iron tang of blood.

Suguru’s voice was low as he stepped forward. “Stay behind me.”

And then the massacre began.

It was not the efficient defense you’d seen before — this was something deeper, older, as if every cut was a sentence carved into the flesh of those who had brought this war to your door. The sound of steel meeting flesh, the cries of the dying, the sharp rhythm of his breath — it blurred into one relentless, unbroken wave.

When it was over, he stood in the center of the carnage, chest heaving, his blade dripping red.

You approached slowly, your footsteps loud in the sudden quiet.

His gaze found yours — still fierce, but the edge had dulled now, replaced by something you couldn’t quite name. Relief, maybe. Or the barest sliver of peace.

“We’re alone,” he said finally.

And you were. The palace was yours now — vast and echoing, every corridor free of threat.

Suguru stepped closer, his voice lower than before. “Don’t scare me like that again.”

The palace halls were silent when the last echo of Suguru’s footsteps faded. He stood in the great entrance chamber, sword hanging at his side, his gaze sweeping across the carnage.

It wasn’t just the blood. It was the stillness of those who once moved through these corridors with purpose — the servants who bowed as you passed, the guards who watched the gates, the nobles who whispered in the council chamber. All of them were here still, frozen in the moment their lives had ended.

Suguru turned to you, his voice low. “We can’t live with this.”

You knew he didn’t mean the palace itself — he meant the ghosts. The smell of death. The weight in the air that made each breath taste like memory.

And so, the cleansing began.

For three days, he worked without pause. He lifted bodies one by one, carrying them to the gardens where the earth was soft enough to take them. He did not flinch when it was the royal family — your family — though his eyes softened each time he glanced your way. He dug until his hands blistered, until the sun burned the back of his neck and the moon rose high over his shoulders.

You joined him, silent most of the time, your skirts stained, your arms aching. Neither of you spoke of what had been lost — not yet. It was as if the act of purging the palace of its dead was the only language either of you could bear.

By the fourth day, the halls were empty of bodies. The floors were scrubbed until the blood faded to faint, stubborn stains in the stone. The air grew lighter, though the quiet remained.

And the palace, against all odds, continued to function — as if the building itself refused to collapse under its history.

The first nights were strange. The chambers felt too large for two people. The silence pressed in from every side, broken only by the low crackle of fire in the grand hearth.

You and Suguru moved like two survivors on the same island — working together, eating together, speaking little but always aware of the other’s presence.

It was only on the seventh night that something shifted.

You were sitting in one of the side chambers, repairing a tear in your sleeve, when Suguru appeared in the doorway. His hair was damp from washing, his tunic loose, his expression unreadable in the flickering light.

“You shouldn’t work so late,” he said quietly.

“I could say the same to you,” you replied, not looking up from your stitches.

When he didn’t answer, you glanced at him — and caught the way his gaze lingered on you, not with the distance of a protector, but with the slow weight of a man seeing something he had not allowed himself to notice before.

You felt your heartbeat stumble.

He crossed the room, his steps deliberate, until he stood close enough for the heat of him to reach you.

Suguru's hand was warm against your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your skin with a reverence that made your breath hitch.

Something fractured in his expression-years of restraint, of duty, of swallowing down every forbidden thought he'd ever had about you. His fingers tightened slightly, just enough to make your lips part in a quiet gasp.

Then he kissed you.

It wasn't the chaste press of lips you might have imagined from a man who had spent his life in service to the crown. His hand slid to the back of your neck, gripping possessively as his tongue swept against yours, deep and claiming.

You whimpered, fingers tangling in the fabric of his uniform, pulling him closer. He growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your lips as he backed you toward the bed.

"Suguru-" you breathed, but he cut you off with another searing kiss, his hands already working at the laces of your gown.

His hands were everywhere-rough from years of wielding a sword, yet unbearably gentle as they mapped the curves of your body. Your gown pooled at your feet, leaving you bare before him, and the way his gaze raked over you made heat coil low in your stomach.

"Fuck," he swore, dragging a calloused palm over your breast, thumb circling your nipple until it peaked beneath his touch. "You're so beautiful..."

You shuddered, fingers working at his tunic, desperate to feel his skin against yours. When he finally shed the last of it, the sight of him-all corded muscle and scars earned in your name-made your mouth water.

He didn't give you time to admire him. In one swift motion, he lifted you onto the bed, settling between your thighs with a groan as he felt how wet you were for him.

"You've thought about this," His tongue licked a slow, torturous stripe up your slit. "Haven't you, princess?"

"Fuck-!"

A low, satisfied hum vibrated against you as he buried his face between your legs, tongue working in firm, relentless strokes. Every flick, every suck sent sparks shooting up your spine, your fingers tangling in his hair to keep him right where you needed him.

"You taste even better than I imagined," he growled against your skin, his lips sealing around your clit in a way that had your thighs shaking.

You whimpered, hips rolling helplessly against his mouth as he devoured you, his fingers digging into your flesh to hold you still. His hand moved between your bodies, finding your entrance as his tongue worked.

You gasped as his fingers slid through your slick folds, teasing your entrance. "S-Suguru-!"

"How many nights?" he pressed, his voice a dark rumble. "How many times did you touch yourself, pretending it was my hands on you?"

The confession spilled from your lips before you could stop it. "Too many."

He cursed again, his control snapping. One thrust of his fingers had you crying out, back arching off the bed as he curled them inside you, hitting that spot that made your vision blur.

"Suguru-please-"

"I've got you," he promised, his free hand pinning your hip down as he worked, eyes sharp with focus.

Then, without warning, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you empty and gasping-only to replace them with the thick, aching heat of his cock in one brutal thrust.

You cried out, back bowing as he filled you to the hilt, the stretch bordering on unbearable. His groan was ragged against your ear, his forehead pressing to yours as his hips rolled forward, burying himself deeper.

"Fuck-you feel perfect," he gritted out, voice rough with restraint. "So fucking tight -like you were made for me."

You could only whimper in response, your legs tightening around his waist as he began to move, each slow, deep drag of his cock stealing the breath from your lungs.

But then his rhythm faltered, his thrusts turning sharper, more erratic. One hand tangled in your hair, tilting your head back until your eyes met his-dark, possessive, ruined with need.

"Look at me," he demanded, his voice a low growl. "I need to see you when you come."

You couldn't have looked away even if you wanted to.

His gaze held you captive as his hips snapped forward, driving into you with a force that had your toes curling, your breath hitching. The coil in your stomach wound tighter and tighter, pleasure building until it was unbearable-

And then his thumb pressed down on your clit again, and you shattered.

A choked moan spilled from your lips as your body clamped around him, your vision whiting out as pleasure crashed over you in waves. Suguru's groan was guttural, his fingers tightening in your hair as he chased his own release, his thrusts turning punishing.

"That's it-take it," he snarled, his voice raw. "Take every fucking inch."

And then he was coming, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep, his release spilling inside you with a ragged groan of your name.

For a long moment, the only sound in the room was your shared panting, the crackle of the fire, and the slick sound of his cock sliding out of you.

Suguru's lips brushed your temple, his voice rough but satisfied.

"You'll mother my kids. I will make sure of that"

Ten years later, the palace was no longer silent. Children’s laughter echoed through its halls, merchants filled the courtyards, and banners bearing the imperial crest rippled in the wind.

On the high balcony overlooking the gardens, you stood with Suguru at your side, your son darting between the rows of flowers below.

The people called you Empress now. They called Suguru Emperor. And though the title had taken years of careful diplomacy and rebuilding — sending messages to the neighboring empires, forging alliances from the ashes — it felt as though it had always been inevitable.

At night, when the torches lit the halls and the air was warm with summer, Suguru would sit beside you and tell your son the stories of your hard-living days — of the forest, the hut, the fight for the palace.

And always, when the story ended, his hand would find yours.

Because in the end, it was about the promise you had both kept — to never let go.

[sugurusbeloved]

Ashes and Oaths – Ending One

🜼 ⋆ Pairing: royal guard! suguru x princess! reader

🜼 ⋆ Tags: TW: blood, gore, mentions of dead bodies, historical fantasy, ANGST, enemies to nothing omg, historical setting (edo period), slow burn, possessive & protective love, princess x guard, forbidden relationship, first love, coming of age.

🜼 ⋆ wc: 1.5k

🜼 ⋆ Note: is it too angsty... i can't decide

divivers by: @/cursed-carmine and @/hyuneskkami !!

<< part 1 — part 2

Dawn came quietly.

The fire was only embers when you stirred, the first gray light seeping through the slats in the walls. Suguru was already moving, the sound of his sword’s sheath sliding against the floor breaking the stillness.

He looked… stronger than days before, though not fully healed. The faint stiffness in his movements betrayed the lingering pain, but his presence filled the small hut like a wall between you and the world beyond.

“You should eat something before you go,” you murmured, voice still soft from sleep.

“I’ll eat when I get back.”

He fastened his robe, then the leather strap across his chest, each movement precise. His hair was tied back neatly now, the loose strands from the days before brushed away — a soldier dressing for battle.

You sat there, watching, your hands curled tightly in your lap.

“Two days,” he said, meeting your eyes. “Three at most, as I said.”

You nodded, even though your chest felt hollow.

When he stepped toward you, he paused just long enough to place a hand on your shoulder — warm, steady, lingering for a heartbeat longer than it needed to. His gaze held yours, and in it, you saw something heavy, unspoken. Then he was gone, his figure swallowed by the early morning fog.

The hut felt too big without him.

The silence pressed in from all sides, interrupted only by the soft crackle of the fire you kept alive out of habit. You paced sometimes, pausing to peer through the gaps in the wall, straining for a glimpse of movement that never came.

Hours became a day.

You spoke to the fire, just to hear your own voice. You mended the cloth strips you’d used for his bandages, even though you told yourself they wouldn’t be needed again. You imagined him somewhere deep in the forest, his blade flashing through the mist, cutting down every shadow that threatened to reach you.

But when night came, your thoughts grew heavier.

Every creak in the wood made you glance at the door. Every gust of wind through the gaps felt like the breath of someone standing just outside. You slept in fragments, always waking with your heart pounding, convinced you’d heard footsteps.

By the second day, your mind was playing tricks.

You thought you saw him once — a shape in the trees beyond the doorway — but when you blinked, it was gone.

You thought you heard your name whispered in the wind.

Still, you waited. Because that’s what you’d promised.

When dusk came, you sat with your back to the wall, knees drawn up, staring at the firelight dancing over your skin.

The third day began gray and still. The fire’s smoke curled lazily upward. You were warming your hands when you heard it — the crunch of leaves, steady and deliberate, approaching from the trees.

Your heart surged. You scrambled to the doorway, expecting to see him.

But the figures that emerged from the mist were not Suguru.

They wore the same borderland garb as the men in the palace hall — dark, weather-worn, eyes sharp and cruel. There were three of them, and the one in front smiled when he saw you.

“You’ve been waiting for him,” he said, voice almost kind. “We can take you to him.”

Your hands curled into fists. “You’re lying.”

The smile widened. “Maybe. But if you don’t come, he’ll never come back.”

Your pulse hammered. The doorframe felt suddenly too thin between you and them. You thought about running, but the hut had no back exit.

The leader stepped closer, his shadow spilling into the doorway. “Come on, princess. He can’t protect you if you’re dead.”

Later, you would remember fragments — the flash of steel, the way the firelight turned the walls red, the sound of your own breath— and blood— catching in your throat.

And then, nothing.

The forest was quiet when Suguru stepped out of the trees.

Too quiet.

He had expected the faint plume of smoke from your fire, the low hum of its warmth spilling from the crooked doorway. Instead, the air was cold, damp with the lingering weight of yesterday’s rain.

His boots sank into the softened earth as he approached. He could feel his own breath inside the mask of stillness the world had drawn around him. Every step toward the hut felt heavier.

The door creaked when he pushed it open.

“...I’m back, princess. I couldn't find them in palace. We should go somewhere else safe.”

The words hung there, unanswered.

The first thing he noticed was the cold hearth — ash gray and silent. The second was the smell. Not of decay, not yet, but the faint, metallic tang that made his grip on his sword tighten without him realizing.

“...Princess?”

He stepped inside, scanning the dim space. The beam of light through the warped wall landed on you.

Then, Suguru froze.

At first, his mind refused to understand what his eyes saw. The shapes in the dim light didn’t make sense — you, lying far too still, your dress torn and darkened, the faint glint of blood near your temple.

Then the truth slammed into him.

He crossed the room in three stumbling steps and collapsed to his knees beside you. His hands shook violently as they hovered over your face, afraid to touch, afraid to confirm. But when his fingertips brushed your cheek, the cold was there — and it was final.

His throat locked. No words came. Only the silent scream that burned in his chest.

No.

No.

Can't be.

“Princess...”

The word was a ghost at first, barely escaping him. Then it came again, harsher, tearing through the quiet.

“No… no, no, no—” His voice cracked on the last, breaking apart completely.

His head bowed over you, and the sound that left him then was not human — it was raw, jagged grief, the kind that strips a man down to bone. His body shook with it, his forehead pressing into your shoulder like if he stayed there long enough, he could breathe life back into you.

I told her to wait. I told her.

She trusted me.

Why did I leave?

Minutes passed — or hours; time was meaningless. When he finally looked up, his eyes were vacant, glassy, staring past you as if seeing another lifetime. His hand moved to adjust your hair, smoothing it gently away from your face the way he always did when you were asleep.

Only now, you would never wake.

The unsaid words — I love you — lodged like glass in his throat. They would never reach you. And that truth alone was enough to hollow him out completely.

Slowly, almost tenderly, he reached for his sword. The movement was steady, deliberate, like muscle memory guiding him through a ritual. The steel caught a thin ribbon of light from the door, flashing once before becoming still.

He looked at you one last time — not the body before him, but the girl he had guarded, laughed with, lived for.

The breath he drew was long and deep, as if preparing for the final cut of fate.

Is this how those men felt when Suguru slit their throats to save the princess?

It... hurt. A lot.

He has always been someone who doesn't show his physical pain, but this time it was different. The pain was blinding. He couldn't even move his body an inch.

Wherever you go, I'll follow you.

His thoughts were already beginning to turn into black, meaningless shapes.

There was blood. More than he had never seen in his life.

“I l-love you,”

Sword fell from his split throat.

And when it fell, the hut was silent once more.

[sugurusbeloved]

Ashes and Oaths – Suguru Geto

🜼 ⋆ Summary: You, Princess of the Empire of Japan, find a boy standing in the ruins of his village — his hands stained with the blood of the bandits who took his family. moved by something you can’t explain, you bring him back to the palace. though distant and cold at first, he grows into your fiercest protector, eventually earning his place as your most trusted royal guard. but just as he begins to understand his feelings for you, a tragedy strikes — rebel attack wiping out the whole royal family in a single night. as blood soaks the halls, suguru has only one purpose: to find you… and get you out alive.

🜼 ⋆ Pairing: royal guard! suguru x princess! reader

🜼 ⋆ Tags: TW: blood, mentions of dead bodies, historical fantasy, angst, enemies to lovers, historical setting (edo period), slow burn, possessive & protective love, princess x guard, forbidden relationship, first love, childhood to adulthood, coming of age.

🜼 ⋆ wc: 3.5k

divivers by: @/cursed-carmine and @/hyuneskkami !!

<< part 1 — there is two options at the end!!

You heard them approaching your room.

Boots. A low chuckle. The soft rasp of a blade being drawn.

When they emerged from the shadows, you knew instantly they did not belong here. Dark-worn armor, hair bound with strips of cloth dyed the color of dried blood, eyes carrying that wild glint of someone who had crossed the borderlands too many times to be welcome anywhere.

One stepped forward. His face was lean, weather-bitten, the corner of his mouth lifted in something between a sneer and a smile.

“So this is the little jewel the emperor hides,” he said, voice curling around each word like smoke.

You couldn’t move. The walls were behind you, cold and unyielding. Your fingers searched for the edge of your sleeves — a habit from childhood — something to hold onto, something to keep you steady. But there was nothing steady in this moment.

The man raised his blade. Your heart clenched against your ribs. You thought — absurdly — of the garden in spring, of the scent of plum blossoms, of how you would never see them again.

And then, the air broke.

A shadow swept into the space between you and them. Steel sang against steel in a sharp, ringing cry.

Suguru.

He moved like water rushing down a mountainside, swift and precise. You caught the brief flash of his profile — hair loosened from its tie, eyes narrowed with that impossible focus you had seen only once before, the day he had sworn to protect you.

They rushed him, but he was faster. A pivot, a sweep of his blade, and the first man staggered back, clutching a wound he had no time to understand.

Suguru’s shoulder rolled, his arm arcing — and in that moment, you saw it: a blade catching him from behind. The sound he made was small, just a breath drawn too sharply, but the crimson that blossomed across his back was impossible to ignore.

You wanted to call out. You wanted to reach him.

But he did not falter.

He pushed forward, every strike deliberate, almost cruel in its efficiency. The hall echoed with the wet thud of bodies hitting the floor. Soon, only the rustle of his breathing remained.

And then, his hand was on yours. Warm. Strong. Unyielding.

“Come,” he said, voice rough, already moving before you could answer.

You let him pull you. His steps were long, purposeful, dragging you through the twisting veins of the palace, past empty gardens that smelled faintly of rain. The night air met you at a side gate, cold and wet against your flushed cheeks.

You didn’t know where you were going. You only knew you couldn't let go of his hand.

The forest took you in without ceremony, earth soft beneath your feet. Suguru kept moving, but the rhythm of his steps was changing. The weight in his hand grew heavier, his shoulders drooped ever so slightly.

He was bleeding. Too much.

Each step seemed to take something from him. You could hear his breath now, louder than before, and every few strides, it caught in his chest. You wanted to tell him to stop. To rest. But the stubborn set of his jaw made the words stick in your throat.

And then, he slowed.

Not all at once — just enough for you to notice. His head tilted forward, as if the air had grown too heavy to hold it up. His fingers loosened on yours, not out of choice but out of exhaustion.

When he finally stopped, it was in a small clearing, the grass wet under the moon. He took a step toward the center, then another, before his knees bent as though the earth itself had called him down.

He lowered himself onto the grass, one hand pressing into the wound at his back. His knuckles were pale, but still he looked around — scanning the trees, listening for movement.

You knelt in front of him, voice breaking as you said his name.

His eyes found yours. Dark. Sharp. And yet, there was something else now — a tiredness, yes, but also something softer.

“Stay… close,” he murmured, and you heard the effort it took just to form the words.

Your hands hovered before finally pressing over his wound. The heat of his blood seeped into your palms, the metallic scent biting at your senses.

You could feel his body tremble beneath your touch.

The night pressed close around you, the damp air heavy with the scent of pine and earth. Suguru’s weight had gone slack against the grass, the tension in his hand — the one that had gripped yours like a lifeline — slipping away.

“Suguru—”

No answer.

You leaned in, panic burning up your spine. His lashes rested against his cheek, his breath shallow, almost silent. Your heart began to pound with the sharp, hollow fear that if you looked away, even for a moment, you might never see those eyes open again.

He’s not gone. He can’t be gone.

Your hands were clumsy on his shoulder, trying to shift him enough to see the wound. The blood was everywhere — dark and wet under moonlight, slicking your fingers. You bit back a sob and forced yourself to think.

There was nothing. No bandages. No medicine. Only you, your hands, and the thin layers of silk and cotton clinging to your body.

You didn’t even hesitate.

Your fingers went to the seam of your outer robe, tearing until the fabric gave with a whisper and then a rip. Strips of pale cloth fell into your lap, some smeared with his blood already. You pressed them to the wound, wincing at the low sound he made even in unconsciousness.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, over and over, as if the words could soften the pain. Your hands wouldn’t stop shaking, but you kept pressing, wrapping, knotting the makeshift bandages until the flow slowed from a hot, steady stream to a stubborn seep.

And all the while, you thought about the way he had stepped between you and death without a moment’s pause. About the look in his eyes in the hall — not just duty, but something deeper.

The thought that you might never hear his voice again was unbearable.

At some point, your head dropped forward, forehead brushing his arm. The exhaustion hit you in waves, but you stayed there, listening to the faint beat of his heart beneath the damp fabric of his robes.

Then — a sound.

A breath, drawn a little deeper than the others.

You lifted your head so quickly your neck ached. His eyes opened, slow and dazed, as if he was dragging himself back from some far-off shore.

“…You’re—” His voice was rough, barely formed.

“I’m here.” You swallowed hard, forcing your tone steady. “You fainted. I—I patched you up.” You gestured at the uneven, knotted bandages that wrapped across his back and shoulder. The white was already blotched with red, but less than before.

His gaze shifted, taking in the strips of cloth — the torn edges that matched your robe. Something unreadable passed through his expression.

“You—” He tried to push himself up, but you put a hand to his chest, firm but gentle.

“Don’t move. You’ve lost too much blood already.”

For a moment, he just looked at you. And then, faintly, a ghost of a smile tugged at his lips — not mocking, not amused, but touched in a way you couldn’t quite name.

“You shouldn’t… have done this,” he murmured, eyes slipping closed again, though you could tell he wasn’t unconscious this time.

“And you shouldn’t have thrown yourself between me and them,” you said, voice trembling despite yourself.

Silence. Only the sound of the wind through the pines.

“…Fair,” he whispered at last.

His body was heavy beneath your hands — not dead weight, but something close enough to send panic fluttering in your chest again. The forest air felt colder now, biting at your damp sleeves, and the thought of staying in the open all night made your stomach knot.

You glanced around, the moonlight spilling only in pieces through the canopy. Branches swayed above, whispering in a language you couldn’t understand.

“There has to be something…” Your voice was quiet, more to yourself than to him.

Suguru stirred faintly under your touch. “We… can’t stay here,” he rasped, though it sounded less like an order and more like a shared truth.

The thought of moving him made your throat tighten — every step might tear the wound open again — but you couldn’t argue. So you slipped your arm beneath his, bracing his side.

“On three,” you murmured, not sure if he even had the strength to stand.

His fingers tightened weakly against your shoulder. “Don’t… count,” he said, and there was the faintest ghost of stubbornness in his tone.

So you didn’t.

You simply pulled, feeling his muscles strain as he forced himself upright. His breath caught, low and harsh, and you wanted to tell him to stop — to rest — but you knew he wouldn’t. So you bore his weight, one slow, shuffling step at a time.

The forest floor was uneven, roots catching at your slippers, the damp earth giving underfoot. Each movement sent a tremor through him that you could feel down to your bones. The heat of his blood was still seeping into you, even through the haphazard wrappings.

Then — through the tangle of trees — you saw it.

The outline of a structure, small and leaning, half-swallowed by vines. Its roof sagged in the middle, and the wood was the color of ash, weathered from years of abandonment. But it was shelter.

“There,” you breathed, almost afraid to say it too loudly, as though the forest might take it back.

You guided him toward it, every few steps pausing so he could catch his breath. By the time you reached the crooked doorway, your own arms were shaking from the effort of keeping him upright.

Inside, the air was dry, musty with the scent of old wood. The moonlight reached through gaps in the roof, painting pale lines across the floor. There was nothing here but a few rotted beams, a collapsed mat, and the faint remains of a hearth in the far corner.

“Sit,” you said softly, easing him down onto a stretch of floor where the wood seemed stable enough.

He sank onto it with a quiet exhale, leaning forward slightly to keep pressure off his back. His hair had fallen loose over his face, strands clinging to the sweat at his temples. You brushed them aside without thinking.

“I’ll… start a fire,” you said, though you weren’t sure if you were talking to him or yourself.

There was some dry wood stacked near the hearth — brittle enough to break by hand — and you gathered what you could. It took longer than you wanted, your fingers clumsy from cold and inexperience, but eventually you coaxed a small flame to life, feeding it until it crackled and glowed.

The warmth crept out slowly, touching the edges of the room, softening the night’s bite. You returned to him, kneeling beside his shoulder.

“You should lie down,” you said.

His eyes lifted to yours, dark and steady despite the exhaustion in them. “…And leave you on the floor?”

It was ridiculous, given the state he was in, but the faint curve of his lips told you he meant it.

You shook your head and guided him carefully toward the fire, helping him lower himself until the heat could reach him. He didn’t fight you this time.

The fire had grown steady now — a low, living thing, its glow licking softly at the dark corners of the hut. You had pulled the remnants of the collapsed mat closer, just enough for Suguru to rest without the damp of the floor seeping into him.

He lay angled toward the flames, one arm folded beneath his head, the other resting loosely on his chest. The lines between his brows had softened, though every so often, his breath would hitch in the faintest grimace.

You watched him for a long time before moving.

It wasn’t just the wound that worried you — though it was deep, ugly, and still faintly seeping. It was the way his skin felt too cool under your fingertips, the way he kept glancing at the door even in exhaustion, like a man who knew safety could never last.

“Let me see,” you murmured, reaching toward his back.

His gaze flicked to you. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” you countered, voice steady though your chest was tight. “Please.”

A beat passed. Then, wordlessly, he shifted forward, letting you peel back the blood-stiffened bandages you had tied in the forest. The cloth stuck in places, pulling at torn flesh. You bit the inside of your cheek each time he inhaled sharply.

The firelight made the wound look worse — an angry slash, deep enough that you could see the strain it took for him to hold himself upright at all. You dabbed at the edges with strips of your already-ruined robe, trying to keep your hands from trembling.

“You should have stayed behind,” you whispered, though you weren’t sure if you meant the hall or the fight itself.

“And let them kill you?” His tone was quiet, but there was steel under it. “No.”

You swallowed, binding him in fresh strips, pulling them snug but not cruel. “You can’t protect me if you die.”

His shoulders tensed faintly under your touch, but he said nothing.

When you were done, you settled beside him, close enough that the warmth of the fire blended with the heat of his skin. He didn’t move away. Outside, the wind had picked up, threading through the trees with a low, unbroken sigh.

Minutes bled into an hour. The flames popped softly, a single ember spiraling up before winking out.

“Try to sleep,” you said at last, breaking the silence.

He gave a small shake of his head. “Not yet.” His voice was quieter now, almost a hum. “Someone needs to keep watch.”

“I’ll do it.”

His lips curved — not in humor, but in something that almost resembled defeat. “You don’t know what to listen for.”

“Then teach me,” you said.

His eyes found yours in the dim light, and something unspoken lingered there.

But he didn’t speak.

Eventually, he let his head rest back against the mat. His breathing slowed, though you could tell he wasn’t asleep. You stayed awake with him, tracing the uneven pattern of firelight on the walls, listening to the forest shift and breathe.

The night felt endless, yet you found yourself wishing it would last a little longer — because once morning came, the world outside would start moving again. And you knew neither of you could hide here forever.

The first night bled into the second day without either of you truly sleeping.

Every creak of the hut made your muscles tense, every rustle in the underbrush outside dragged your eyes to the doorway. The fire burned low by morning, the pale light of dawn creeping in through the warped planks.

Suguru was propped against the wall, eyelids heavy but still watching the door like it might decide to move closer.

“You didn’t rest,” you murmured, setting down the bundle of dry branches you’d gathered from just outside.

“You didn’t either, princess” he replied. His voice was rougher than last night — a rasp of smoke and fatigue.

You wanted to argue, but the truth was, you’d been just as stubborn. Sleep felt like an indulgence neither of you could afford.

Second night.

The wind had shifted, bringing with it the scent of rain and something else — faint, metallic. You caught it while feeding the fire, pausing with a branch in hand.

Suguru noticed.

“What is it?”

“Smells like… smoke.”

His eyes sharpened. He pushed himself upright — too fast — and a hiss escaped him as the wound protested.

“Stay here,” he ordered, moving toward the door.

“I’m not—”

“Stay.” His tone cut through you, low and final. But you saw the way his jaw tightened, the way his hand lingered against the frame for balance.

He’s still hurt. He shouldn’t even be standing.

You followed him anyway, stopping just behind as he stepped outside. The forest was hushed, damp earth soaking up the light drizzle. And then you saw it — a thin ribbon of smoke rising from deeper in the woods.

“Someone’s close,” you whispered.

“Or passing through,” he said, though the tension in his shoulders told you he didn’t believe it.

Third day.

He’d let you clean the wound again, though not without muttered protests. You could feel the fever under his skin, the heat radiating from his back.

“This isn’t healing fast enough,” you said, wiping away the edges of blood that had seeped through the bandage overnight.

“It’s healing,” he countered. “You just don’t like the pace.”

You tied the cloth snugly, ignoring his wince.

Fourth Night.

The rain had stopped hours ago, leaving the forest heavy with the scent of wet leaves. You were half-asleep, head resting against the wall, when the sound shattered the quiet — quick, snapping steps outside. Not animal.

Suguru was up instantly, sword in hand. The way he moved made your stomach tighten — not just from fear, but from the cold realization that his body was still weaker than his will.

The footsteps paused just beyond the doorway.

Suguru’s voice was a low growl. “Show yourself.”

No answer. Only the sound of breath — human, close, and deliberate.

And then, a blur — a figure darted past the opening, something glinting in their hand. Suguru lunged, catching them just outside. The clash was quick, brutal — too quick for you to do more than stand frozen in the doorway.

The man collapsed at his feet, weapon clattering to the ground. Suguru stayed still for a moment, shoulders rising and falling, before stepping back inside.

“Scouting,” he said shortly. “They’re looking for us.”

The air in the hut felt heavier after that, the fire’s warmth no longer reaching your skin.

The sixth night came colder than the ones before. The fire burned low, shadows pooling thick along the warped walls. You had just finished tightening the bandages again, fingers brushing against the hard bread you found in the hut –something far cry from the usual tables of the palace–, when he finally spoke the words you’d been dreading.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Your mouth stopped chewing. “…What?”

He didn’t look at you right away. His gaze stayed fixed on the flames, as if the answer he needed might be hiding there. “They’re getting closer. You saw the scout.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“It means they know where we are,” he cut in, tone even but firm. “If I stay, I’ll be fighting them here. And you’ll be trapped in the middle of it.”

You shook your head, a slow burn building in your chest. “So you’re going to go out there? Alone? In your condition?”

He finally looked at you then, and you hated how steady his eyes were. “If I move now, I can find them before they find you. I can end it before it reaches this door.”

You turned away, staring at the fire because looking at him felt too dangerous. “And what am I supposed to do while you’re gone?”

“Wait.” The word was simple, final. “Stay here. Keep the fire going. Don’t open the door for anyone.”

A hundred arguments clawed at the back of your throat, but none of them would change the way he had already set his jaw. You knew that look — the same one he’d worn when he’d stepped between you and the men who wanted your life.

Still, the thought of him vanishing into the forest without you made your stomach knot. You imagined every possible ending, and too many of them ended with you never seeing him again.

He must have seen something of that in your face, because his voice softened, just slightly. “I’ll be back. Two days, maybe three. You’ll be safe here.”

Safe.

You didn’t believe that word anymore.

But you didn’t say so. You only nodded, slow and unwilling, as if that might make the hours ahead pass more slowly.

When he lay down that night, his back turned toward you, you stayed awake long after his breathing steadied — counting the cracks in the roof, tracing the faint scars on the door frame with your eyes.

Because in the morning, you’d have to decide.

Would you do as he said and wait, or follow him into the forest?

Follow — Stay

[sugurusbeloved]

concubine!reader x trueform!sukuna

You'd known Sukuna would ruin you.

But knowing and feeling were two different things.

His lower cock splits you open in one brutal thrust, stretching your cunt so wide your breath stutters into a whimper. The second dick grinds against your ass, the blunt pressure relentless, burning, as his belly tongue slithers up your inner thigh, saliva searing your clit.

"T-too big-fuck, c-can't-" you slur, voice cracking as your body strains around him, trembling like a plucked string.

"Look at you," Sukuna rasps, all four eyes locked on the obscene bulge in your stomach. His lower hand fists your hair, wrenching your head back to see, your skin is stretched taut, the outline of his cock visible beneath it. "Already stuffed full, and I've barely started."

You jerk, trying to pull away, but the movement only drives him deeper, a ragged cry tearing from your throat.

"S-slow down-hnngh-p-please, 'm gonna -gonna break-" you whine, syllables tangling as drool spills from your lips.

Sukuna laughs, his upper arms pin your wrists above your head while the lower ones spread your thighs wider, exposing you completely.

"Thought you'd last longer," he taunts, the second cockhead pressing harder until your body gives with a wet pop. You choke, muscles clamping down around both cocks at once, your vision whiting out from the stretch. "C'mon, little concubine. Sing for me."

You can't. Your voice is shattered, limbs trembling uselessly against his grip.

"N-no more-hah-c-can't, please-" you babble, words dissolving into a sob as his hips roll, grinding deeper.

Then he yanks his tongue from your throat just as he buries the second cock to the hilt.

Your scream echoes off the walls, broken and desperate.

"P-please-too much-'m full, 'm full-!" you slur, tears and spit streaking your cheeks, your body convulsing around the impossible stretch.

"Too much?" he mocks, hips snapping forward, driving into you so deep your toes curl. The slap of skin drowns out your whimpers as his tongue lashes across your face, leaving a stinging welt. "You'll take it," he growls, fingers digging bruises into your hips. "Even if I have to sew you onto these cocks."

You are breaking.

You can feel it in the way your thighs shake, the way your vision fractures at the edges, the way your cunt and ass flutter around him—overstimulated as your voice cracks around sobs.

Sukuna's grin is all teeth. His tongue drags up your throat, lapping at the tears streaking your cheeks. "That's it," he purrs, the vibration of his voice sinking straight into your bones. "You can take it. I know you can, dove.”

His lower hand slides between your bodies, thumb pressing hard against your clit and your back arches off the ground, a broken scream tearing from your throat as you come. Your walls spasm around him, milking his cocks in frantic pulses, but he doesn't stop. He fucks you through it, dragging your orgasm out until it tips into agony.

"You don't get to pass out yet," he growls, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. The pain is bright, electric, and it yanks you back into your body just in time to feel his hips stutter.

Then he's pouring into you, filling you so deep you can feel the heat of it, the stretch as your stomach swells just a fraction more. His groan is low, satisfied, as he grinds his cocks into your trembling body, ensuring every last drop is buried inside.

For a moment, there's only the sound of your ragged breathing, the wet drip of come leaking from your ruined holes.

Sukuna exhales, amused, as he pulls out-your body clenches weakly around nothing, oversensitive and empty. His thumb smears through the mess between your thighs, then presses against your slack lips.

"Open."

You do.

The taste is bitter, thick, and you gag as he drags his fingers over your tongue, coating it in him-your spend, his, the proof of your wreckage. His laugh is dark when your eyes flutter shut, exhaustion finally pulling you under.

"Rest," he murmurs, "I'm not done with you yet."

dividers by @/doll-fairy and @/cafekitsune !!

[sugurusbeloved]

concubine!reader x trueform!sukuna

You'd known Sukuna would ruin you.

But knowing and feeling were two different things.

His lower cock splits you open in one brutal thrust, stretching your cunt so wide your breath stutters into a whimper. The second dick grinds against your ass, the blunt pressure relentless, burning, as his belly tongue slithers up your inner thigh, saliva searing your clit.

"T-too big-fuck, c-can't-" you slur, voice cracking as your body strains around him, trembling like a plucked string.

"Look at you," Sukuna rasps, all four eyes locked on the obscene bulge in your stomach. His lower hand fists your hair, wrenching your head back to see, your skin is stretched taut, the outline of his cock visible beneath it. "Already stuffed full, and I've barely started."

You jerk, trying to pull away, but the movement only drives him deeper, a ragged cry tearing from your throat.

"S-slow down-hnngh-p-please, 'm gonna -gonna break-" you whine, syllables tangling as drool spills from your lips.

Sukuna laughs, his upper arms pin your wrists above your head while the lower ones spread your thighs wider, exposing you completely.

"Thought you'd last longer," he taunts, the second cockhead pressing harder until your body gives with a wet pop. You choke, muscles clamping down around both cocks at once, your vision whiting out from the stretch. "C'mon, little concubine. Sing for me."

You can't. Your voice is shattered, limbs trembling uselessly against his grip.

"N-no more-hah-c-can't, please-" you babble, words dissolving into a sob as his hips roll, grinding deeper.

Then he yanks his tongue from your throat just as he buries the second cock to the hilt.

Your scream echoes off the walls, broken and desperate.

"P-please-too much-'m full, 'm full-!" you slur, tears and spit streaking your cheeks, your body convulsing around the impossible stretch.

"Too much?" he mocks, hips snapping forward, driving into you so deep your toes curl. The slap of skin drowns out your whimpers as his tongue lashes across your face, leaving a stinging welt. "You'll take it," he growls, fingers digging bruises into your hips. "Even if I have to sew you onto these cocks."

You are breaking.

You can feel it in the way your thighs shake, the way your vision fractures at the edges, the way your cunt and ass flutter around him—overstimulated as your voice cracks around sobs.

Sukuna's grin is all teeth. His tongue drags up your throat, lapping at the tears streaking your cheeks. "That's it," he purrs, the vibration of his voice sinking straight into your bones. "You can take it. I know you can, dove.”

His lower hand slides between your bodies, thumb pressing hard against your clit and your back arches off the ground, a broken scream tearing from your throat as you come. Your walls spasm around him, milking his cocks in frantic pulses, but he doesn't stop. He fucks you through it, dragging your orgasm out until it tips into agony.

"You don't get to pass out yet," he growls, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. The pain is bright, electric, and it yanks you back into your body just in time to feel his hips stutter.

Then he's pouring into you, filling you so deep you can feel the heat of it, the stretch as your stomach swells just a fraction more. His groan is low, satisfied, as he grinds his cocks into your trembling body, ensuring every last drop is buried inside.

For a moment, there's only the sound of your ragged breathing, the wet drip of come leaking from your ruined holes.

Sukuna exhales, amused, as he pulls out-your body clenches weakly around nothing, oversensitive and empty. His thumb smears through the mess between your thighs, then presses against your slack lips.

"Open."

You do.

The taste is bitter, thick, and you gag as he drags his fingers over your tongue, coating it in him-your spend, his, the proof of your wreckage. His laugh is dark when your eyes flutter shut, exhaustion finally pulling you under.

"Rest," he murmurs, "I'm not done with you yet."

dividers by @/doll-fairy and @/cafekitsune !!

[sugurusbeloved]

concubine!reader x trueform!sukuna

You'd known Sukuna would ruin you.

But knowing and feeling were two different things.

His lower cock splits you open in one brutal thrust, stretching your cunt so wide your breath stutters into a whimper. The second dick grinds against your ass, the blunt pressure relentless, burning, as his belly tongue slithers up your inner thigh, saliva searing your clit.

"T-too big-fuck, c-can't-" you slur, voice cracking as your body strains around him, trembling like a plucked string.

"Look at you," Sukuna rasps, all four eyes locked on the obscene bulge in your stomach. His lower hand fists your hair, wrenching your head back to see, your skin is stretched taut, the outline of his cock visible beneath it. "Already stuffed full, and I've barely started."

You jerk, trying to pull away, but the movement only drives him deeper, a ragged cry tearing from your throat.

"S-slow down-hnngh-p-please, 'm gonna -gonna break-" you whine, syllables tangling as drool spills from your lips.

Sukuna laughs, his upper arms pin your wrists above your head while the lower ones spread your thighs wider, exposing you completely.

"Thought you'd last longer," he taunts, the second cockhead pressing harder until your body gives with a wet pop. You choke, muscles clamping down around both cocks at once, your vision whiting out from the stretch. "C'mon, little concubine. Sing for me."

You can't. Your voice is shattered, limbs trembling uselessly against his grip.

"N-no more-hah-c-can't, please-" you babble, words dissolving into a sob as his hips roll, grinding deeper.

Then he yanks his tongue from your throat just as he buries the second cock to the hilt.

Your scream echoes off the walls, broken and desperate.

"P-please-too much-'m full, 'm full-!" you slur, tears and spit streaking your cheeks, your body convulsing around the impossible stretch.

"Too much?" he mocks, hips snapping forward, driving into you so deep your toes curl. The slap of skin drowns out your whimpers as his tongue lashes across your face, leaving a stinging welt. "You'll take it," he growls, fingers digging bruises into your hips. "Even if I have to sew you onto these cocks."

You are breaking.

You can feel it in the way your thighs shake, the way your vision fractures at the edges, the way your cunt and ass flutter around him—overstimulated as your voice cracks around sobs.

Sukuna's grin is all teeth. His tongue drags up your throat, lapping at the tears streaking your cheeks. "That's it," he purrs, the vibration of his voice sinking straight into your bones. "You can take it. I know you can, dove.”

His lower hand slides between your bodies, thumb pressing hard against your clit and your back arches off the ground, a broken scream tearing from your throat as you come. Your walls spasm around him, milking his cocks in frantic pulses, but he doesn't stop. He fucks you through it, dragging your orgasm out until it tips into agony.

"You don't get to pass out yet," he growls, sinking his teeth into your shoulder. The pain is bright, electric, and it yanks you back into your body just in time to feel his hips stutter.

Then he's pouring into you, filling you so deep you can feel the heat of it, the stretch as your stomach swells just a fraction more. His groan is low, satisfied, as he grinds his cocks into your trembling body, ensuring every last drop is buried inside.

For a moment, there's only the sound of your ragged breathing, the wet drip of come leaking from your ruined holes.

Sukuna exhales, amused, as he pulls out-your body clenches weakly around nothing, oversensitive and empty. His thumb smears through the mess between your thighs, then presses against your slack lips.

"Open."

You do.

The taste is bitter, thick, and you gag as he drags his fingers over your tongue, coating it in him-your spend, his, the proof of your wreckage. His laugh is dark when your eyes flutter shut, exhaustion finally pulling you under.

"Rest," he murmurs, "I'm not done with you yet."

dividers by @/doll-fairy and @/cafekitsune !!